The  Real 
Agatha 


Wilt.  Of  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS 


THE   REAL  AGATHA 

THE  UNUSUAL 

ADVENTURES  OF  Two  YOUNG  MEN   AND 
AN  HEIRESS 


EDITH   HUNTINGTON   MASON 


FRONTISPIECE    BY    W.  T.  SMEDLEY 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  £  CO. 

1907 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 
1907 


Entered  at  Statior.er^  Hall,  London,  England 
All  rights  reserved 


This  story  jirst  appeared  in  "  The  Ladies'  H'^me  Journal,"  April, 


The  University  Press,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


TO    MY    FATHER 


2131351 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McClurg  <5  Co. 
1907 

Published  AW.  23,  1907 

Entered  at  Statior.eri  Hall,  London,  England 
Ail  rights  reserved 


This  story  Jirst  appeared  in  "  The  Ladies'  Home  Journal,*  April, 


The  University  Press,  Cambridge,   U.S.A. 


TO    MY    FATHER 


2131351 


The  Real  Agatha 


CHAPTER    OTsTE 

/NEVER  quite  knew  how  it  was  that  I 
took  Vincent  with  me,  except  that  we  both 
needed  a  holiday  at  the  same  time  and 
the  same  kind  of  holiday  appealed  to  us  both. 
Vincent's  whole  name  and  title  is  Lord 
Wilfred  Vincent,  for  he  is  the  younger  son 
of  the  old  Duke  of  Totten.  Men  of  his  own 
age  call  him  "Freddy,"  but  I  call  him 
Vincent  or  Wilfred,  because  I  consider  cur- 
tailed appellations  undignified.  Vincent  is 
an  artist  —  that  is,  he  calls  himself  one ;  his 
friends  call  him  "a  dabbler  in  art."  He 
does  n't  really  go  in  for  it  seriously,  you  know, 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

but  he  did  little  sketches  of  cows  and  that 
sort  of  thing  rather  well,  I  fancy.  So  we 
agreed  that  our  aim  was  to  find  a  little  old 
village,  far  away  from  London,  and  get 
rooms  in  some  old  farmhouse.  My  idea  was 
that  Vincent  would  go  out  and  paint  the  cows 
while  I  would  lie  in  the  hammock  and  the 
old  lady  would  bring  me  buttermilk.  Wilfred 
had  an  idea  that  he,  too,  would  like  to  spend 
a  good  bit  of  his  time  in  a  hammock,  but  with 
this  difference,  that  the  old  lady's  beautiful 
daughter  was  to  bring  him  lemonade.  But 
I  pointed  out  to  him  that  the  chief  reason 
that  I  was  running  away  from  town  was  to 
get  rid  of  the  debutantes,  and  therefore  he  'd 
have  to  leave  the  fair  ones  out  of  our  air 
castle. 

Our  plan  was  just  to  bask  in  Nature,  and  we 
had  six  weeks  to  bask  in.    The  Foreign  Office 

[8] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

doesn't  seem  to  require  much  of  Wilfred's 
time  and  he  ^does  n't  do  anything  else  except 
"dabble."  Of  course,  being  a  younger  son, 
he  hasn't  a  shilling  of  his  own,  but  the  old 
Duke  makes  him  a  comfortable  allowance, 
because  he  dotes  on  Wilfred  as  much  as  he 
detests  his  eldest  son,  Edmund,  the  heir  to 
the  dukedom.  So,  when  Vincent  complained 
of  feeling  "  all  run  down,"  it  was  easy  for  him 
to  get  six  weeks  off,  although,  as  I  tell  him, 
he  has  been  getting  "six  weeks  off"  ever 
since  he  left  Oxford,  two  years  ago.  He 
isn't  twenty-four  yet. 

Nevertheless,  Vincent  is  one  of  the  best 
little  chaps  in  the  world.  I  don't  mean  that 
he  is  undersized,  for  he  stands  six  feet  two 
in  his  stockings;  but  he  is  so  good-natured, 
so  jolly  and  amiable  and  straight  and  —  well 
—  just  naturally  nice,  don't  you  know  —  that 

[9] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

everybody  is  "just  crazy  about  him,"  as 
the  American  girl  I  met  last  summer  used  to 
say,  and  all  the  men,  young  and  old  alike, 
have  gotten  to  calling  him  "  little  Vincent " 
or  "  Freddy  "  from  his  Eton  days,  just  by  way 
of  endearment.  Of  course,  I  'm  much  older 
than  Vincent  —  to  be  more  exact,  there  's  a 
matter  of  twelve  or  fifteen  years  between  us 
—  but  I  must  say  I  can't  help  being  drawn  to 
him.  I  Ve  known  him  ever  since  he  was 
born,  and  then,  you  see,  we  're  both  Oxford 
men,  belong  to  the  same  clubs,  and,  of  course, 
Terhune  is  as  old  a  name  as  Vincent,  even  if 
it  has  n't  any  handle  to  it,  and,  if  I  do  say  it, 
there 's  never  a  dinner  given  in  London  town 
that  Archibald  Terhune  is  not  invited.  But, 
somehow,  in  this,  my  tenth  season,  I  became 
utterly  weary  of  the  limelight,  the  dinners, 
the  balls,  the  match-making  mammas  (for  I 

[10] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

am  an  "eligible  bachelor"),  and,  most  of  all, 
the  debutantes,  with  their  educated  smiles  and 
cultivated  stares.  I  felt  that  I  must  flee  from 
London  to  escape,  and  thus,  as  Vincent  is 
always  ready  for  a  holiday,  we  found  ourselves 
one  fine  day  well  started  on  our  journey.  We 
had  taken  the  noon  train  for  Kingsbridge,  and 
changing  there  were  to  go  on  to  Cuppstone, 
which  an  artist  friend  of  Vincent's  had  rec- 
ommended to  us  as  just  the  place  we  were 
looking  for. 

"Jolly  lark  this,"  said  Vincent,  after  we 
had  been  some  time  on  our  way;  "only 
hope  Cuppstone  and  Darner's  farm  will  be 
what  we  want.  Graham  cracked  it  up  to  the 
skies." 

"  That 's  the  trouble,"  I  complained;  "when 
a  thing's  talked  up  too  much  it's  sure  to 
disappoint  one." 

[11] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  Wait  till  you  see  it,  old  pessimist !  "  said 
Vincent  with  a  cheerful  grin.  "  It 's  got  cows 
which  provide  buttermilk  and  art,  and  I  've 
got  some  lemons  in  my  grip  for  the  lemonade. 
The  only  thing  that  troubles  me  is  the  land- 
lady's beautiful  daughter.  I'm  afraid  she'll 
be  a  minus  quantity."  Then  he  put  his  feet 
across  on  my  side  of  the  carriage  and  lit  a 
nasty,  smelly,  old  pipe.  That 's  the  worst  of 
Vincent ;  he  's  so  young  he  does  n't  think  how 
a  thing  like  that  may  get  on  one's  nerves. 
But  I  would  n't  hurt  his  feelings  for  anything, 
and  so  I  had  to  let  him  smoke. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when 
we  had  left  the  comfortable  carriages  of 
the  main  line  for  the  ramshackle  ones  of  the 
branch  train,  we  came  to  a  sudden  stop  in  the 
centre  of  a  big  stretch  of  meadow  land.  A 
few  miles  away  we  could  see  the  spires  and 

[12] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

roofs  of  a  little  village,  and,  what  was  more 
noticeable,  a  big  castle,  that  stood  on.  higher 
ground  some  distance  above  the  town,  but  not 
far  from  where  the  train  had  stopped.  I  asked 
the  guard  what  the  trouble  was,  and  he  told 
me  that  something  was  wrong  with  the  engine 
and  it  might  be  a  couple  of  hours  before  we 
could  go  ahead. 

Just  as  he  finished  his  explanation  Vincent, 
who  had  been  looking  out  of  the  window  with 
great  interest,  sprang  to  his  feet  and  shook 
my  shoulder  excitedly.  "  Look  there !  Do 
you  see  them!  "  he  cried,  pointing  at  the 
beautiful  meadows  with  their  winding  stream 
and  gentle  slopes. 

"  See  what!  "  I  demanded  somewhat  testily, 
adjusting  my  glasses  and  surveying  the  land- 
scape without  perceiving  anything  of  unusual 
interest. 

[13] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

But  Vincent,  in  a  fever  of  haste,  was  kneel- 
ing and  unstrapping  his  golf  clubs.  "  Hooray," 
he  cried,  "  Terhune,  a  golf  course  as  I  'm  a 
sinner.  Come  on,  we  '11  have  some  sport.  The 
old  train 's  due  to  wait  an  hour,  anyhow." 

I  looked  again,  and,  sure  enough,  I  saw  that 
at  intervals  the  close-cropped  grass  was  dotted 
with  little  red  flags  like  sparks  of  fire  on  a 
carpet  of  green  velvet.  Vincent  has  many 
fads,  but  I  think  he  is  keener  on  golf  than 
anything  else.  I  was  disgusted  with  him. 
"Vincent,"  I  said  with  decision,  "this  is 
nonsense.  You  can  wait  till  we  get  to 
Cuppstone  to  play  golf.  Graham  said  there 
were  public  links  there." 

"  Yes,  and  he  also  said  that  it  was  the  rot- 
tenest  course  he  ever  played  over,"  said 
Vincent  with  some  heat.  "  I  made  him  ad- 
mit it.  And  this  one  is  a  beauty.  A  private 

[14] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

one,  I  '11  wager.  Look  at  that  turf.  It  is  just 
like  velvet,  my  dear  fellow --like  velvet," 
and  he  swept  a  practised  eye  over  the  wide 
green  slopes. 

Now,  I  am  fond  of  the  game  myself  within 
reason,  and  certainly  the  prospect  was  invit- 
ing, for  I  was  tired  of  the  confinement  of  the 
carriage  and  Vincent  was  most  persuasive.  I 
knew  it  was  a  foolish  thing  to  do ;  the  train 
might  not  stay  so  long  as  we  expected  and 
we  might  get  left ;  and  yet,  as  I  say,  it  is  hard 
to  refuse  Vincent  anything.  I  unwillingly 
permitted  him  to  get  out  my  clubs. 

"  Whose  links  are  these?  "  I  asked  the  guard. 
"  Do  they  belong  to  the  castle?  " 

"  Yessir,"  replied  the  guard.  "  They  belong 
to  Castle  Wyckhoff,  the  family  seat  of  Baron 
Wyckhoff.  They  're  all  dead  now,  though,  all 
'cept  the  Honorable  Agatha,  and  she  lives  in 

[15] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

the  castle  and  owns  all  these  acres,  sir,  all  you 
can  see,"  and  the  guard  waved  his  hand 
grandiloquently  toward  the  imposing  old  pile 
on  the  hillside  and  the  green  meadows  stretch- 
ing away  far  below  it. 

"  She  must  have  money,"  I  said  reflectively. 
Vincent,  meanwhile,  was  hunting  in  his  grip 
for  an  atrocious  red  coat  he  wears  when  he 
golfs. 

"  Money?  "  repeated  the  guard.  "  Money? 
Lor'  bless  you,  sir,  she  'as  millions  an'  millions. 
Her  own  father  was  Baron  Wyckhoff,  but 
'e  died  when  'is  darter  were  a  little  thing. 
'E  never  'ad  a  shilling,  but  'er  stepfather,  that 
married  Baroness  Wyckhoff  two  years  later, 
was  H'american  and  'ad  more  pounds  than 
there  is  stones  in  that  castle,  sir,  an'  arter 
'is  wife  died  'e  'ad  the  place  built  up 
again.  An'  now  they  're  both  dead,  sir,  and  'is 

[16] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

stepdaughter,  the  Honorable  Agatha,  as  'er 
title  is,  sir,  is  heiress  of  all  his  millions  and 
'er  mother's  estate." 

"  She  ought  to  marry,"  I  said,  still  reflec- 
tively, and  without  any  personal  meaning. 

.The  guard  smiled  knowingly.  "There's 
many  a  one  arter  her,  sir,"  he  said;  "but 
they  don't  seem  to  make  no  progress  against 
'er  stepfather's  will." 

"Her  stepfather's  will?"  I  repeated  with 
interest.  "  Do  you  hear  that,  Vincent?  " 

But  Vincent,  his  beloved  coat  at  last  found, 
was  half  out  of  the  carriage.  "  Come  on,"  he 
shouted,  "  we  're  wasting  time."  And  I,  per- 
force, was  obliged  to  follow  him,  although  the 
guard's  story  promised  to  be  very  interesting. 

After  we  had  played  the  first  hole  and  I  had 
won  (I  seldom  win  a  hole  from  Vincent,  so  I 
was  in  a  good  humor)  I  told  him  what  the 
9  [17] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

guard  liad  said.  "So  these  grounds  belong  to 
the  Honorable  Agatha,"  I  concluded,  "  and  I 
have  curiosity  enough  to  wish  that  we  might 
behold  this  mysterious  lady." 

But  Vincent  wasn't  a  bit  excited:  you  can 
never  depend  upon  him  when  he  's  playing 
golf.  "  Bosh !  "  he  said;  "  I  'd  rather  play  on 
her  links  than  see  her.  If  she  saw  us  she 
might  put  us  off.  I'll  bet  she's  a  crabbed 
old  maid.  I'm  surprised  at  you,  Terhune, 
with  your  romantic  notions.  I  thought  you  'd 
left  all  that  sort  of  thing  behind  you  in 
London." 

I  felt  myself  reddening  slightly,  though  I 
knew  Vincent  did  n't  mean  anything,  and  was 
about  to  make  some  retort  when  he  drove  off 
unexpectedly,  and  I  stopped  in  admiration  of 
the  clean,  fast  shot  he  made.  It  just  cleared 
a  natural  bunker  and  sped  on  beyond. 

[18] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

At  that  instant  a  discordant  mixture  of 
sound  burst  upon  our  ears,  as  that  of  a  dog 
yelping  and  a  vigorous  scolding  in  a  high 
but  sweet  feminine  voice.  With  one  accord 
we  rushed  up  the  gentle  rise,  and  in  the 
depression  beyond  we  beheld  one  of  the  hand- 
somest girls  I  had  ever  seen  in  my  life.  She 
was  bending  over  a  setter  puppy  and  scolding 
him.  The  dog's  yelps  had  subsided  to  a 
whimper  and  he  was  holding  up  one  of  his 
paws  as  if  he  had  been  hurt.  "I  told  you 
not  to  come,  Kudolph,"  she  was  saying,  "  and 
I  told  you  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  and  I 
told  you  you'd  get  hurt  if  you  didn't." 

She  was  a  tall  girl,  but  beautifully  pro- 
portioned, and  wore  no  hat  on  her  mass  of 
dark  hair.  When  we  got  nearer  we  saw  that 
her  eyes  were  big  and  black,  her  profile  per- 
fect, and  her  coloring  delightful. 

[19] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Vincent  capitulated  at  once  and  I  let  him 
make  his  impression  first.  He  's  the  younger, 
and  it  always  seems  a  shame  not  to  give  such 
a  promising  boy  a  chance. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  advancing 
and  baring  his  head,  so  that  the  gold  in  his 
brown  hair  caught  the  sunlight,  "  but  would 
you  tell  me  if  these  are  private  links  and  to 
whom  they  belong?  I  fear  we  are  trespass- 
ing." He  said  this  just  as  if  I  hadn't  told 
him  all  about  it. 

The  girl  turned  to  him  uncertainly;  then 
she  smiled  a  wide,  jolly  smile  of  good  fellow- 
ship. I  knew  she  would  —  they  all  do  that 
at  Vincent. 

"  Was  that  your  ball?  "  she  said,  not  heeding 
his  question.  "I'm  very  sorry.  It  hit  my 
dog." 

Vincent  was  all  concern  in  a  moment. 
[20] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

"What  a  shame,"  he  said.  "Did  it  hurt 
him?"  and  he  knelt  down  to  examine  the 
dog's  paw. 

"  Oh,  no,  Rudolph 's  all  right,"  she  answered ; 
"  but  it  spoiled  your  drive,  and  I  'm  sorry  for 
that,"  and  then  she,  too,  knelt  on  the  grass 
beside  the  dog. 

I  felt  that  it  was  time  to  step  forward.  "  My 
dear  young  lady,"  I  said  —  she  couldn't  have 
been  more  than  twenty,  so  I  did  not  hesitate 
to  address  her  thus  —  "  My  dear  young  lady, 
will  you  please  tell  us  whether  we  are  tres- 
passing in  using  this  course?  To  whom  does 
it  belong?  "  You  see,  I  had  to  pretend  igno- 
rance to  get  more  information.  I  have  many 
of  the  intuitions  that  go  to  make  up  a  great 
detective,  and  I  had  a  presentiment  that  this 
girl  was  none  other  than  the  Honorable  Agatha 
Wyckhoff  herself. 

[21] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

This  proved  to  be  the  case.  As  I  addressed 
myself  to  her  the  girl  rose  with  dignity 
and  replied :  "  I  am  the  Honorable  Agatha 
Wyckhoff  and  I  own  these  grounds.  So,  you 
see,  you  are  trespassing." 

But  her  tone  was  laughing  and  her  expres- 
sion not  at  all  severe,  so  I  promptly  told  her 
who  we  were,  and  we  all  shook  hands,  the 
Honorable  Agatha  smiling  at  me  somewhat 
the  way  she  had  smiled  at  Vincent,  though 
perhaps  a  trifle  more  appreciatively. 

"  We  did  n't  mean  to,"  said  Vincent,  "  and 
I  hope  you  don't  mind.  You'll  forgive  us, 
won't  you!  " 

The  girl  laughed,  and  it  was  a  laugh  that  I 
like  to  hear,  not  the  silly,  repressed  giggle  of 
a  London  debutante.  "  She  '11  very  nearly  do," 
I  thought,  "even  if  she  isn't  more  than 
twenty." 

[22] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  Forgive  you?  "  she  repeated.  "  Of  course 
I  will.  I  think  it's  great  fun.  I  haven't 
seen  a  new  man  for  six  weeks." 

I  was  wondering  what  she  meant  by  using 
the  word  "new"  and  waiting  for  Vincent  to 
reply,  when,  instead  of  answering  her,  he  sud- 
denly pointed  over  my  shoulder  with  a  look  of 
horror.  "  The  train,"  he  cried,  "  the  train !  ' 

Sure  enough,  when  I  turned  I  saw  our  train 
had  started  and,  although  moving  slowly,  was 
well  on  its  way  to  the  little  town  in  the 
distance. 

We  were  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the 
tracks  by  this  time,  and  of  course  pursuit  was 
useless. 

"  Left  behind,"  cried  Vincent  dramatically, 
and  burst  out  laughing. 

That 's  just  like  him  —  he  always  laughs  at 
everything.  For  my  own  part  I  could  n't  see 

[23] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

anything  funny  about  it.  Here  we  were  set 
down  in  a  little  town  that  probably  did  not 
contain  an  inn,  while  our  luggage  travelled 
merrily  on  to  Cuppstone,  all  because  of  a 
foolish  whim  of  his.  The  girl  laughed  too, 
so  there  was  no  use  in  telling  him  what  I 
thought  of  him  then. 

"Well,  what  are  we  going  to  do?  "  I  asked 
sharply. 

"  Do?  "  echoed  Vincent.  "  Why,  with  her 
permission,  we  '11  play  a  game  of  golf  with  the 
Honorable  Agatha,  and  then  go  to  the  station, 
whatever  its  name  is,  and  take  another  train 
for  Cuppstone." 

"  Its  name  is  Wye,"  said  the  Honorable 
Agatha,  "  the  town  of  Wye,  and  that 's  a  very 
good  plan.  That 's  just  what  we  '11  do." 

And  it  was  just  what  we  did  do.  And  you 
should  have  seen  that  girl  play  golf !  By  the 

[24] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

time  we  had  been  around  the  eighteen-hole 
course  I  felt  a  little  fatigued  —  one  has  to 
keep  in  training  to  do  that  sort  of  thing  at 
a  minute's  notice  —  but  Vincent  and  the 
Honorable  Agatha  seemed  as  fresh  as  when 
we  started  and  proposed  a  race  to  the  station. 
I  told  them  to  run  on  ahead  and  I  'd  meet 
them  later,  so  away  they  dashed,  with  Rudolph 
leaping  and  barking  in  front  of  them,  never 
doubting  that  the  whole  thing  was  planned 
for  his  especial  benefit. 

When  I  reached  the  station  at  last,  instead 
of  seeing  about  our  train  or  telegraphing  to 
Cuppstone  about  our  late  arrival,  there  was 
Vincent  sitting  on  the  luggage-truck  with  that 
girl,  and,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  he  was  holding 
her  hand.  When  they  spied  me  the  girl  tried 
to  pull  her  hand  away,  but  Vincent  held  on. 

"  That  you,  Archibald  I  "  he  called,  as  if  it 
[25] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

could  have  been  anyone  else.  "  Come  on  up 
here.  We  Ve  been  telling  fortunes,  and  Miss 
Agatha's  hand  is  very  interesting." 

"No  doubt,"  I  answered  dryly;  "but  what 
have  you  done  about  telegraphing  to  Cupp- 
stone,  and  what  train  have  you  found  we  can 
take?" 

"There  isn't  any  train,"  said  Vincent  as 
cheerfully  as  if  he  were  telling  me  a  bit  of 
good  news.  "  Only  two  trains  a  day  run 
through  Wye  from  London,  and  ours  was 
the  last.  Anyway,  your  friend,  the  guard, 
thought  we  ought  to  get  off  here  and  put 
off  all  our  luggage." 

I  looked  around  in  consternation  and  there 
were  our  boxes,  all  piled  neatly  at  the  far  end 
of  the  platform. 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  Wilfred  "  —  I  call  him 
Wilfred  when  I  am  angry  —  I  said,  turning 

[26] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

on  Vincent,  who  was  again  busy  telling 
fortunes  — "  do  take  some  interest.  What 
are  we  going  to  do!  Isn't  there  a  station- 
master  here  who  can  tell  us  about  the  inns  of 
this  place,  if  there  are  any  ?  I  'm  starving." 

Vincent  looked  up  and  again  smiled  that 
irritating  smile  of  his.  "Don't  get  hot,"  he 
drawled;  "it's  all  right.  The  Honorable 
Agatha  has  invited  us  to  the  castle  and  she  's 
telephoned  for  the  dogcart  and  a  wagon  for 
our  luggage.  Have  n't  you,  Angel!  "  he  ended, 
turning  his  handsome  bronzed  face  to  the  girl 
with  one  of  his  best  smiles,  one  of  the  kind 
he  reserves  especially  for  the  fair  sex. 

I  frowned.  Vincent  really  makes  advances 
too  quickly. 

"Why  didn't  you  say  so  at  first! "  I  said 
rather  peevishly,  as  I  sat  down  on  the  steps 
to  await  the  dogcart  which  one  could  see 

[27] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

already,  a  black  speck  in  the  distance  on  the 
winding  road  from  the  castle.  The  speck 
finally  disappeared  behind  a  clump  of  trees, 
and  when  it  emerged  and  drew  up  at  the 
station  we  saw  what  a  stunning  little  turnout 
it  was.  The  horse  was  as  fine  as  any  you  'd 
meet  on  the  Lady's  Mile,  the  harness  was  clink- 
ing and  shining  with  ornaments,  and  the  cart 
and  the  groom's  livery  were  faultless. 

The  Honorable  Agatha  mounted  the  box 
seat.  "  Christopher,"  she  said  to  the  groom, 
"I'm  going  to  drive.  You  'd  better  ride  back 
with  the 'trunks.'" 

Then,  before  I  had  time  to  interfere,  Yin- 
cent  leaped  nimbly  up  to  the  seat  beside  her 
and  I  was  obliged  to  take  the  rumble  with 
Rudolph,  who  leaped  up  beside  me  as  if  to 
his  accustomed  seat.  I  was  too  anxious  to 
get  to  the  castle  and  get  something  to  eat, 

[28] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

however,  to  mind,  and  the  Honorable  Agatha 
proving  to  be  as  good  a  whip  as  she  was 
golfer,  we  were  soon  winding  up  the  last 
gentle  slope  that  led  to  the  big  building.  As 
we  drove  down  the  long  avenue  another  dog- 
cart approached  us  rapidly,  and  as  it  came 
almost  abreast,  to  my  surprise  I  recognized 
the  young  man  who  was  sitting  with  the  groom 
as  young  Murray  Brancepeth.  He  saw  us  at 
the  same  moment  and  both  dogcarts  stopped. 

"  Hullo,  Murray ! '  said  Vincent  and  I 
together. 

But  he  never  paid  the  slightest  attention 
to  us.  Instead,  he  jumped  lightly  from  his 
high  seat  and  came  around  to  the  Honorable 
Agatha's  side  of  our  cart.  Beaching  up  he 
caught  her  hand. 

"  I  don't  care  whether  you  're  the  real 
Agatha  or  not,"  he  said,  his  dark  face  flushed 

[29] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

with  the  intensity  of  his  feeling.  "  You  've 
got  to  marry  me  some  time.  I  'm  not  after 
money.  I  Ve  some  of  my  own  and  I  '11  make 
some  more.  When  you're  tired  of  this  folly 
I'm  coming  back  for  you.  Grood-by."  And 
he  wrung  her  hand  till  the  Honorable  Agatha 
winced.  Then  he  was  gone  in  a  rattle  of 
gravel  and  dust. 

We  couldn't  help  hearing  what  he  said 
and  he  didn't  seem  to  care  whether  we  did 
or  not.  But  we  could  hardly  believe  our 
ears.  Young  Murray  Brancepeth,  that  gilded 
idler,  declaring  himself  the  victim  of  a  mighty 
passion,  and,  more  astounding  still,  swearing 
that  he  would  make  some  money !  He,  who 
had  never  done  any  work  in  his  life  besides 
that  necessary  to  bleed  his  rich  old  uncle  of 
his  living  expenses. 

"  What  was  it  he  said,"  I  thought,  "  about 
[30] 


THE     R  E  A  L     A  G  A  T  H  A 

the  'real  Agatha'  and  'folly1  I"  What  did 
it  all  mean? 

As  we  drove  up  to  the  castle  entrance  two 
girls  of  about  nineteen  and  twenty,  I  should 
say,  came  tearing  around  the  corner,  tennis 
racquets  in  hand,  and  shrieked  aloud,  evi- 
dently with  surprised  delight  at  seeing  us. 

"  Oh,  Agatha,"  cried  the  foremost  of  the 
two,  a  tall,  brown-eyed,  brown-faced  sylph, 
with  a  profusion  of  wavy  and  very  disorderly 
brown  hair.  "  Oh,  Agatha,  where  did  you  get 
them?  I  'm  so  tired  of  Brancepeth." 

"  Yes,"  cried  the  other  one,  "  where  did  they 
drop  from!  I  thought  you  were  playing 
golf."  She  was  a  jolly  little  thing,  this  second 
one,  small,  but  plump,  with  fair  skin  and  blue 
eyes,  really  very  attractive. 

This  was  somewhat  embarrassing  to  me, 
but  Vincent  stood  there,  utterly  unperturbed, 


T  H  E     R  E  A  L     A  G  A  T  H  A 

bowing  with  that  easy  grace  of  his,  as  the 
Honorable  Agatha  introduced  us.  But  im- 
agine our  surprise  when  she  presented  each 
of  those  two  young  things  as  "  the  Honorable 
Agatha  Wyckhoff!" 

"But  I  thought  you  were  the  Honor- 
able Agatha,"  I  cried,  unable  to  repress  my 
astonishment. 

"So  I  am,"  she  answered,  smiling,  and 
we  followed  her  into  the  house,  silent  but 
wondering. 


[32] 


CHAPTER    TWO 

f  M  ^HE  inside  of  the  castle  gave  every 
I  evidence  of  enormous  wealth  and 
every  imaginable  luxury  was  provided. 
After  a  little  interchange  of  pleasantries  in 
the  spacious  hall  our  black-haired  friend 
raised  her  voice  in  a  stentorian  shout,  in 
answer  to  which  a  brisk,  elderly  lady  came 
down  the  mahogany  stairs  and  welcomed  us 
cordially.  She  was  introduced  as  "  our  aunt 
and  chaperon,  Mrs.  Armistead,"  amid  peals  of 
laughter  from  the  girls,  although  we  couldn't 
see  any  joke.  We  then  went  to  our  rooms, 
which  contained  everything  we  could  possibly 
have  desired,  and  when  we  came  down  to  din- 
ner the  footman  told  us  that  Mrs.  Armistead 

[35] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

and  the  young  ladies  were  awaiting  us  in  the 
drawing-room. 

We  crossed  the  hall,  and  when  the  heavy 
curtains  that  separated  it  from  the  huge 
drawing-room  were  lifted  to  admit  us,  we 
saw  at  least  twenty  girls  ranging  in  age  from 
eighteen  to  twenty-three,  standing  or  sitting 
around  the  room  in  attitudes  of  expectancy. 
I  found  out  later  that  there  were  really  only 
six  of  them,  but,  at  the  time,  there  looked  to 
be  twenty.  They  were  all  pretty,  all  wore 
evening  dress,  and  all  were  talking  at  once; 
but  as  Vincent  and  I  entered  they  stopped  and 
Mrs.  Armistead  came  forward  and  presented 
us  to  the  three  girls  we  had  not  yet  seen. 

The  first  of  the  new  three,  Agatha  Fourth, 
as  Vincent  and  I  called  her  later,  was  tall  and 
very  fair,  with  wonderful  blue  eyes  and  a 
beautiful  figure.  That  our  bewilderment  and 

[36] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

astonishment  increased  when  she  also  was 
presented  to  us  as  the  Honorable  Agatha 
Wyckhoff  may  be  easily  understood.  The 
next  one  had  light  brown  hair  with  gold  lights 
in  it  and  her  eyes  were  a  golden  hazel.  As 
she,  too,  was  introduced  as  the  Honorable 
Agatha  Wyckhoff  I  bowed  mechanically,  as 
did  Vincent,  not  daring  to  trust  myself  to 
utter  a  word  or  repeat  the  name.  Then,  turn- 
ing from  Agatha  Fifth,  we  met  the  Honor- 
able Agatha  Sixth  and  last,  and  I  thought 
she  was  the  prettiest  of  all.  Delicate  and 
small  she  was,  but  eyery  inch  an  aristo- 
crat from  her  small  charming  head  to  her 
dainty  little  feet.  Her  eyes  were  dark 
brown,  her  complexion  clear  olive,  and  her 
hair  straight  and  soft  and  jet  black.  I  took 
to  her  at  once,  though  I  thought  she  looked 
rather  sarcastic. 

[37] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

The  introductions  over,  we  went  in  to 
dinner,  and  such  a  meal  as  that  was !  At  one 
end  of  the  table  sat  Mrs.  Armistead,  while  I 
sat  at  the  other.  Agatha  First  sat  on  Mrs. 
Armistead' s  right,  next  to  her  sat  Vincent, 
and  next  to  him,  Agatha  Fourth  —  the  tall, 
fair-haired  beauty.  I  have  described  them 
at  length  so  that  it  is  not  difficult  to  keep 
them  apart.  Next  to  her,  on  my  left,  sat  the 
plump  4  little  girl  with  the  blue  eyes,  Agatha 
Third.  Then  on  my  right  —  oh,  fortunate 
me!  sat  my  little  lady  aristocrat,  Agatha 
Sixth,  and  next  to  her  Agatha  Second,  her 
unruly  brown  curls  somewhat  subdued,  and 
looking  very  fetching  in  a  costume  of  pink 
and  white.  I  should  have  thought  that  these 
girls  were  American  had  I  not  had  reason  to 
believe  that  they  were  English;  there  was 
that  breezy  simplicity  and  becomingness 

[38] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

about  their  gowns  which  seems  to  be  distinc- 
tively American. 

But  I  have  omitted  from  my  category 
Agatha  Fifth,  the  Agatha  of  the  hazel  eyes. 
I  will  not  now  take  time  to  do  justice  to  her 
many  charms,  but  shall  do  so  later  for  reasons 
which  will  soon  appear.  Mrs.  Armistead's 
secretary,  who  came  in  late  and  slipped  into 
the  seat  at  Mrs.  Armistead's  left,  completed 
the  number  of  persons  at  the  table.  She  was 
a  quiet  young  woman  dressed  in  a  severely 
simple  gown  of  gray,  and  her  hair,  which  was 
done  very  plainly,  was  distinctly  red  in  color. 
Mrs.  Armistead  introduced  her  to  us  as  her 
secretary,  Miss  Marsh. 

The  meal  was  well  cooked  and  beautifully 
served,  and  by  the  time  the  salad  course 
arrived  Vincent  and  I  had  lost  much  of  our 
constraint  and  self-consciousness  and  were 

[391 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

talking  and  laughing  with  the  best  of  them. 
The  levity  and  freedom  from  the  convention- 
alities usually  observed  at  a  dinner-party,  in 
which  those  girls  indulged,  was  a  bit  shocking 
to  me,  although  it  did  not  seem  to  disconcert 
Vincent  in  the  least. 

After  dinner  our  adventure  developed  its 
most  astonishing  feature.  At  the  close  of  the 
meal  the  ladies  arose,  and  we  were  invited  to 
remain  and  smoke  some  exceptionally  fine 
cigars,  but  before  she  left  the  room  the  sec- 
retary came  over  to  us  and  in  a  low  tone 
told  us  that,  when  we  had  finished  our  smoke, 
Mrs.  Armistead  desired  that  we  should  join 
her  in  the  library  to  discuss  business.  She  — 
the  secretary  —  would  come  for  us,  as  we 
would  not  know  the  way.  . 

We  were  amazed.  Business!  What  busi- 
ness could  we  possibly  have  with  Mrs. 

[40] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Armistead?  However,  we  told  the  secretary 
that  we  would  be  happy  to  join  her  mis- 
tress in  the  library  in  about  twenty  minutes, 
although,  as  I  said,  we  hadn't  the  wildest 
idea  what  we  could  possibly  have  to  discuss 
with  her. 

When  the  secretary  withdrew  Vincent  burst 
into  a  flood  of  excited  conjecture.  "Are  we 
in  a  girls'  boarding-school,  or  a  lunatic  asylum, 
or  what?  "  he  demanded.  "  I  don't  know  what 
to  make  of  it.  If  it 's  an  asylum  then  I  'm 
distinctly  for  lunatics!  They're  the  most 
attractive  lot  I've  ever  seen,  but  if  they're 
all  sisters  why  didn't  Papa  and  Mamma 
Wyckhoff  find  different  names  for  'em?  Six 
Agathas,  and  all  'the  Honorable'  at  that! 
It's  absurd!  But  it  doesn't  seem  to  bother 
them;  they  call  each  other  'Ag,'  and  'Aggie,' 
and  *  Agatha '  just  as  if  it  were  Rose,  or  Gwen, 

[41] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

or  Maud!  What  do  you  suppose  it  all  means! 
My  head 's  in  a  whirl !  ': 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  I  said,  "  I  have  a  presen- 
timent that  we  shall  find  out  what  it  all  means 
when  we  join  Mrs.  Armistead  in  the  library." 
And  we  did.  As  I  have  said,  my  intuitions 
seldom  fail  me. 

The  library  was  a  little  room  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  dining-hall.  It  was  beauti- 
fully furnished,  like  the  rest  of  the  house, 
and  a  big  fireplace  took  up  one  side  of  the 
room.  Before  it  was  a  massive  armchair, 
worn  and  old,  as  if  the  barons  of  Wyckhoff 
for  ages  back  had  sat  in  it.  On  the  large 
table  were  some  legal-looking  papers,  and 
as  we  entered  Mrs.  Armistead  arose  and 
placed  her  hand  upon  them.  The  secretary 
closed  the  door  and  took  up  her  position 
beside  her  mistress,  while  we  stood  before 

[42] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

them,  ill  at  ease  and  expecting  we  knew 
not  what. 

"Gentlemen,"  began  Mrs.  Armistead  with 
great  gravity,  "  I  am  right,  am  I  not,  in  pre- 
suming that  you  are  candidates  for  the  hand 
of  the  Honorable  Agatha  Wyckhoff  I  " 

Yes,  that 's  just  what  she  said:  "  Candidates 
for  the  hand  of  the  Honorable  Agatha  Wyck- 
hoff."  It  took  my  breath  away,  and  before  I 
had  time  to  speak  and  set  her  right  I  heard 
Vincent  calmly  assuring  her  that  we  were 
candidates !  As  he  had  thus  rashly  committed 
himself  I  couldn't  go  back  on  him,  so  I  let 
him  make  all  the  other  answers  that  were 
necessary. 

"  Then  you  wish  to  hear  the  will? ' '  continued 
Mrs.  Armistead,  and  Vincent  assented. 

"Read  the  will,"  said  Mrs.  Armistead 
to  the  secretary,  and  the  young  lady  in 

[43] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

gray  picked  up  one  of  the  legal-looking 
papers. 

"  This  is  to  certify,"  she  began,  and  read  to 
the  finish,  while  I  held  my  breath,  for,  when 
I  had  heard  the  whole  of  that  extraordinary 
document,  I  was  filled  with  amazement  and 
curiosity,  not  unmixed  with  a  certain  excite- 
ment. In  brief  the  provisions  of  this  remark- 
able will  ran  thus. 

Fletcher  Boyd,  stepfather  of  the  Honorable 
Agatha  Wyckhoff,  had  left  her  his  entire  for- 
tune of  about  twenty  million  dollars,  provided 
that  she  obey  the  conditions  of  his  will. 
Should  she  disregard  them  the  whole  sum 
was  to  go  to  the  endowment  of  a  Presbyterian 
Hospital  at  New  Bedford,  Massachusetts,  his 
native  town. 

The  will  then  went  on  to  say  that,  wishing  to 
protect  the  girl,  who  was  not  yet  twenty-one 

[44] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

years  of  age,  from  fortune-hunters,  her  step- 
father desired  her,  at  the  completion  of 
her  education,  to  secure  not  less  than  three, 
nor  more  than  six,  girls  from  eighteen  to 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  each  bearing  the 
name  of  Agatha,  who  would  be  willing  to  live 
with  the  Honorable  Agatha  at  her  castle  in 
Shropshire  near  Wye,  England,  for  two  years ; 
in  return  for  which  they  were  each  to  receive 
a  generous  monthly  stipend,  enjoy  luxurious 
lodgings  and  rich  fare,  and  to  live  a  life  of 
idleness,  with  ample  entertainment. 

It  was  further  directed  that,  before  the  girls 
left  for  England,  some  English  lady  of  rank 
or  position  be  secured,  to  dwell  at  Castle 
Wyckhoff,  in  the  capacity  of  chaperon,  in 
consideration  of  a  handsome  salary,  this  lady 
to  be,  preferably,  Mrs.  Armistead,  sister  of 
the  real  Honorable  Agatha's  mother.  For 

[46] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

the  first  year  after  Mr.  Boyd's  death  the  Hon- 
orable Agatha  was  to  observe  mourning  by 
not  going  to  London  festivities;  but  during 
this  time  she  was  to  be  permitted  to  amuse 
herself  and  friends  by  entertaining  at  the 
castle  any  young  men  of  whom  the  chaperon 
might  approve.  Mrs.  Armistead  (should  she  be 
the  chaperon  secured)  was  likewise  charged 
to  keep  the  castle  supplied  with  guests,  the 
best  young  men  that  England  could  boast,  as 
her  large  acquaintance  permitted  her  to  do. 
Each  visitor  in  the  role  of  suitor  for  the  hand 
of  the  Honorable  Agatha  was  limited  to  six 
weeks'  stay  at  the  castle,  as  Mr.  Boyd  con- 
sidered that  length  of  time  sufficient  for  him 
to  find  out  whether  he  loved  any  of  the 
Agathas  or  not  and  the  suitor  was  not  to  make 
his  declaration  until  the  very  last  day  of  the 
six  weeks  allotted  him,  and,  of  course,  was 

[46] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

limited  to  one  proposal.  In  the  event  of  any 
of  the  young  men  proposing  to  any  of  the 
Agathas  who  was  not  the  stepdaughter  of 
Mr.  Boyd,  the  will  permitted  her  to  marry 
him,  if  she  desired,  but  with  the  distinct 
understanding  that  she  was  not  the  Honorable 
Agatha  Wyckhoff.  In  that  case  Mrs.  Armis- 
tead  was  to  secure  another  Agatha,  and  the 
girl  who  desired  to  marry  was  to  receive  a 
dowry  amounting  to  the  full  sum  of  the 
monthly  stipends  which  she  would  have 
received  had  she  remained  at  the  castle  the 
entire  two  years.  The  same  provision  for 
her  companions  was  made  in  the  event  of  the 
real  Agatha's  marriage  before  the  expiration 
of  the  time.  If  any  young  man  proposed  to 
the  real  Agatha,  ignorant  of  her  identity,  and 
she  accepted  him,  she  was  directed  by  the 
will  to  produce  and  wear  upon  the  third 

[47] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

finger  of  her  left  hand  the  betrothal  ring  of 
her  mother's  family,  a  gold  ring  set  with  a 
big  cross  of  emeralds,  as  proof  of  her  identity 
as  the  real  Agatha.  Mrs.  Armistead  and  all 
the  girls  were  to  be  bound  by  oath  not  to 
reveal  the  identity  of  the  real  Agatha,  and 
each  of  the  latter  was  to  be  alike  addressed 
as  the  "Honorable  Agatha  Wyckhoff,"  by 
suitors  and  servants,  in  order  to  preserve  the 
secret.  This  condition  could  be  carried  out 
without  fear  of  recognition  by  the  servants, 
as  the  real  Agatha  had  not  been  in  England 
since  her  early  childhood.  Thus  her  identity 
could  be  easily  concealed,  and,  by  this  means, 
if  any  proposal  of  marriage  were  made  to  her 
it  would  be  from  a  man  whose  motives  were 
not  mercenary,  but  purely  those  of  natural 
affection,  which  was  her  stepfather's  object 
in  making  the  will. 

[48] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

The  will  closed  with  the  appointment 
of  executors  and  trustees  and  then  came 
the  witnesses,  the  date,  and  the  place  of 
residence. 

"  Then  we  can  stay  at  this  bully  old  place 
for  six  weeks,"   said  Vincent.     "Hooray!  ' 
He's  such  a  kid! 

The  secretary  smiled  at  his  enthusiasm,  and 
Vincent  must  have  thought  her  smile  very 
attractive,  because  he  drew  aside  and  began 
to  talk  to  her  in  low  tones,  while  I  discussed 
the  will  with  Mrs.  Armistead,  who  seemed 
perfectly  willing  to  impart  whatever  infor- 
mation we  desired.  It  was  just  like  Vincent 
to  begin  a  flirtation  with  the  secretary,  just 
as  if  there  were  not  six  handsome  girls  of  his 
own  station  in  the  castle.  But  anything  femi- 
nine will  do  for  him  as  long  as  she  has  a 
sweet  smile  or  soulful  eyes,  or  some  other 

[49] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

equally  trivial  attraction.  He'd  flirt  with 
Mrs.  Arraistead  herself,  I  'm  sure,  if  that  esti- 
mable dame,  begging  her  pardon,  would  give 
him  a  chance. 

"I  am  delighted,  Mr.  Terhune,"  said  Mrs. 
Armistead,  after  we  had  seated  ourselves  in 
the  library,  "  that  you  and  Lord  Wilfred  have 
decided  to  stay  with  us,  and  I  think  it  would 
be  well  to  put  off  our  other  visitors  who  were 
to  come  to  us  for  this  six  weeks.  I  do  not 
believe  in  having  more  than  two  or  three 
young  men  at  once.  The  time  is  so  very 
short." 

"  It  would  give  us  a  better  chance,"  I  agreed, 
and  she  turned  toward  the  secretary,  who  was 
evidently  in  the  secret. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  "as  these  gentlemen 
are  going  to  remain  with  us  for  this  six  weeks, 
I  think  it  would  be  as  well  if  we  put  off  the 

[50] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Percivale  brothers  till  the  six  weeks  after 
that.  Will  you  wire  them  this  evening  to 
that  effect !  " 

"Certainly,"  replied  Miss  Marsh,  "I  will 
see  to  it  immediately,  Mrs.  Armistead." 

At  this  a  thought  struck  me  and  I  turned 
to  Vincent.  "  And  you  had  better  wire  the 
good  people  at  Darner's  farm,"  I  said,  "to 
inform  them  of  our  change  of  plan." 

"  Indeed  you  must,"  said  Mrs.  Armistead, 
"  and,  by-the-way,  Mr.  Terhune,  if  you  and 
Lord  Vincent  wish,  I  can  provide  you  with  a 
copy  of  the  will  —  it  is  difficult,  I  think,  to 
remember  all  its  conditions." 

"  Perhaps  that 's  a  good  idea,"  I  answered. 
"It  is  certainly  an  extraordinary  document; 
and  what  an  extraordinary  man  this  Fletcher 
Boyd  must  have  been,  Mrs.  Armistead,  to 
conceive  such  a  plan  as  that." 

[51] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Mrs.  Armistead  laughed.  "  I  think  he  was," 
she  said.  "  I  saw  my  brother-in-law  only 
once  in  my  life,  but  that  was  enough  to 
impress  me  with  the  strength  of  the  man's 
character  and  his  eccentricity.  He  was  in- 
tensely American  —  what  they  call  a  '  self- 
made  man  '  over  there,  I  imagine  —  and  it  was 
his  determination  that  his  stepdaughter,  the 
Honorable  Agatha,  in  spite  of  her  English 
birth,  should  be  educated  in  America.  To 
this  her  mother  agreed,  on  condition  that  she 
should  be  allowed  to  bring  her  daughter  out 
in  England  and  that  she  should  make  that 
country  her  home  when  her  schooling  had  been 
completed.  Accordingly,  when  Lady  Wyckhoff 
died,  the  child  being  about  eleven  years  old, 
Fletcher  Boyd  promised  his  wife  to  carry  out 
her  wishes  in  that  respect.  A  few  years  later 
he  began  the  work  of  building  up  this  old 

[52] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

castle  of  Wyckhoff  and  putting  in  every  mod- 
ern convenience,  as  you  see,  so  that  it  should 
be  ready  for  his  daughter  to  live  in  tempora- 
rily, before  he  established  her  in  London  with 
some  good  lady  to  oversee  her  presentation 
into  society,  according  to  her  mother's  ideas." 

This  was  a  long  speech  for  the  good  Mrs. 
Armistead,  and  she  paused  for  breath. 

"I  see,"  I  commented.  "He  made  a  very 
excellent  job  of  it.  Then,  as  I  understand  it, 
his  daughter  has  never  been  in  England  since 
her  early  childhood  I  " 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Armistead.  "Poor  child, 
it 's  practically  all  new  to  her.  But  I  must  n't 
pity  her!  The  way  she  and  those  friends 
of  hers  take  hold  of  things  passes  my 
understanding." 

"  And  where  did  she  find  so  many  attractive 
girls,  each  bearing  the  Christian  name  of 

[53] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Agatha  ?':  I  inquired.  "It  is  an  unusual 
name,  and  I  should  have  thought  that  part  of 
the  will  difficult  to  fulfil." 

"They're  all  Americans,"  replied  the  ac- 
commodating lady  —  "even  my  secretary. 
She  was  at  my  niece's  boarding-school,  and 
by  my  arrangement  chaperoned  the  party  of 
girls  on  their  trip  over.  When  I  met  her  she 
seemed  such  a  bright,  capable  little  thing  I 
engaged  her  at  once  for  my  secretary,  as  my 
eyes  are  bad.  As  for  the  Agathas,  one  of 
them  roomed  with  my  niece  at  school,  another 
she  met  while  visiting  her  friends  in  holiday 
time,  another  she  became  acquainted  with 
quite  by  accident  on  the  train,  and  the  others 
came  in  answer  to  an  advertisement." 

"  Wonderful  that  so  many  girls  could  be 
found  who  were  all  so  attractive,"  I  said 
again. 

[54] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"They  are  attractive,  aren't  they?"  she 
assented ;  "  and  their  frocks  are  so  pretty,  too. 
I  made  them  get  colored  things  to  wear  this 
second  year  of  mourning  for  my  brother-in- 
law.  I  do  so  hate  to  see  young  girls  wearing 
black,  and  every  article  they  put  on  comes 
from  New  York  City." 

"I  thought  as  much,"  I  said.  "I  thought 
they  seemed  more  like  American  than  English 
girls.  And  how  long  has  your  niece  been 
here? " 

I  asked  this  last  question  because  I  was 
afraid  the  conversation  was  going  to  stop  and 
I  felt  that  in  another  moment  Mrs.  Armistead 
might  inadvertently  drop  a  hint  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  real  Agatha.  It  was  very 
exciting. 

"  Nearly  a  year.  This  is  the  last  six  weeks 
of  the  second  year  of  mourning,  and  the  first 

[55] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

of  the  two  years  she  is  to  spend  with  her  girl 
companions  at  the  castle.  You  know  my 
brother-in-law  disapproved  of  girls  '  coming 
out,'  as  they  call  it,  and  placing  themselves  on 
the  marriage  market.  He  'd  rather  have  the 
young  men  come  to  see  them  in  their  own 
homes,  so  he  put  off  my  niece's  presentation 
as  long  as  he  could,  hoping  she  'd  be  married 
before  that  time,  I  think." 

"  And  have  you  entertained  many  young 
men  as  yet?  " 

"  My  dear  man !  I  should  think  we  had, 
nearly  two  dozen  at  least.  And  they  were 
too  funny,  unobtrusively  trying  to  discover 
which  was  the  girl  with  the  money,  although 
that  is  really  against  the  spirit  of  the  whole 
thing,  as  it  is  contrary  to  the  object  of  the 
will." 

At  this  point  I  grew  rather  thoughtful. 
[56] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"Dear,  dear!"  she  went  on,  "how  cau- 
tiously they  did  go  about  their  courtships! 
They  were  all  after  the  money,  I  fear. 
This  is  a  mercenary  world!  All  the  girls 
have  received  offers,  but  none  of  them  has 
accepted." 

"  What  hard-hearted  misses  they  must  be !  " 
I  exclaimed.  "Are  they  all  like  that  in 
America,  I  wonder?"  And  I  couldn't  help 
thinking  of  that  girl  I  met  last  summer. 

"I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  replied  Mrs. 
Armistead.  "It's  not  like  English  girls. 
They're  always  ready  and  willing  to  marry 
off  whenever  their  mammas  have  provided 
eligible  partis  for  them.  But  I  can  understand 
it  in  this  case.  No  one  of  the  Agathas  is  more 
than  twenty-two  years  old,  and  it 's  great  fun 
for  them,  this  care-free  life  at  Castle  Wyckhoff . 
They  have  everything  they  can  possibly  want 

[57] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

that  money  can  buy,  —  not  one  of  them  has 
ever  been  in  England  before,  and  they  are  all 
devoted  friends.  What  wonder  that  the  charm 
and  noveltv  of  their  somewhat  unusual  life 

•i 

have  not  yet  worn  off.  Really  it  is  n't  strange 
to  me  that  no  one  of  them  has  been  able  to 
make  up  her  mind  to  leave  the  enchanted 
castle  —  though,  to  be  sure,  I  think  that  young 
Murray  Brancepeth  very  nearly  carried  off 
one  'of  our  Agathas.  She  seems  to  fancy 
him,  and  between  ourselves  I  think  he  '11  win 
her  yet." 

"And  if  he  does  hell  win  the  twenty 
millions  with  her,  I  suppose?  " 

I  said  this  coolly,  in  a  matter-of-fact  tone, 
and  waited  for  her  denial  or  acquiescence, 
successfully  concealing  my  interest  in  the 
reply. 

But  she  gave  me  neither;  she  began  to  say 
[58] 


something,  but  checked  herself  suddenly  and 
looked  at  me  admiringly. 

"You're  a  clever  man,"  she  said  instead, 
"  but  you  can't  get  any  information  out  of 
me.  Lots  of  them  have  tried,  but  it 's  no 
use.  Besides,  it  isn't  fair." 


[59] 


Chapter 
Th  ree 


CHAPTER    THREE 

"T^LSAPPOINTED  and  somewhat  cha- 
f  M  grined  at  Mrs.  Armistead's  answer, 
I  rose  to  my  feet  and  prepared  to 
join  the  young  ladies  in  the  drawing-room. 
I  had  been  so  interested  in  discussing  Fletcher 
Boyd's  will  with  Mrs.  Armistead  that  I  had 
completely  forgotten  Vincent.  At  first  I 
thought  he  had  already  left  the  room,  but  in 
a  moment  I  heard  him  laugh  and  discovered 
him  actually  sitting  on  the  floor  before  the 
fire,  playing  a  species  of  mumble-the-peg  with 
the  secretary.  Extremely  unbecoming  con- 
duct for  both  of  them,  I  thought,  and  Mrs. 
Armistead  thought  so  too,  for  she  spoke 
sharply  to  the  secretary,  who  left  the  room 

[63] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

with  reddened  cheeks.  Vincent,  however, 
was  unabashed,  and  after  holding  the  door 
open  for  her,  he  followed  me  to  the  drawing- 
room,  without  heeding  my  remonstrances. 
He  seldom  does  heed  them,  I  may  say. 

It  was  on  the  third  day  of  our  stay  when 
Vincent  and  I  had  begun  to  feel  thoroughly 
at  home  at  Castle  Wyckhoff,  and  when  Vin- 
cent had  begun  to  feel  more  than  thoroughly 
at  home  with  Agatha  First,  that  I  made  an 
important  discovery.  The  morning  was  rainy, 
and  after  breakfast  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  to  read  —  that  is,  until  Agatha  Sixth  came 
downstairs.  I  had  found  her  to  be  an  un- 
usually well-educated  girl  and  had  given  her 
all  my  attention  during  the  three  days  I  have 
mentioned.  So  I  wandered  into  the  library 
and  began  to  explore  the  tall  bookshelves,  to 
find  something  that  interested  me.  And  I 

[64] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

found  it,  though  it  wasn't  exactly  for  what  I 
had  been  looking.  On  the  lowest  shelf  I  dis- 
covered three  heavy  but  new-looking  albums. 
From  idle  curiosity  to  look  at  what  I  supposed 
were  pictures  of  the  dead  barons  of  Wyckhoff 
I  dusted  the  first  of  the  big  books  and  began 
to  turn  the  leaves.  I  found  it  full  of  photo- 
graphic reproductions  of  oil  paintings  depict- 
ing the  ladies  of  the  family,  and  on  the  last 
page  of  the  book  I  came  upon  a  picture  which 
thoroughly  startled  me.  It  was  a  copy  of  a 
full-length  portrait  of  the  last  Baroness  Wyck- 
hoff,  whose  second  husband  had  been  Fletcher 
Boyd.  The  picture  showed  a  slender  little 
lady,  with  straight  dark  hair,  an  aquiline  nose, 
and  a  dark  complexion,  the  living  image  of 
Agatha  Sixth! 

Stunned  by  the  importance  of  my  find  I 
closed  the  book,  put  back  the  albums  where 

[65] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  had  found  them,  and  stole  from  the  room.  I 
had  a  guilty  feeling,  almost  as  if  I  had  done 
something  wrong,  yet  it  had  been  an  accident 
for  which  no  one  could  really  blame  me. 
Full  of  excitement,  I  went  to  find  Vincent  to 
acquaint  him  with  my  good  news,  and  dis- 
covered him  in  the  morning-room  playing 
chess  with  Agatha  First,  or  rather,  he  was 
showing  her  how  to  play,  for  he  was  hanging 
over  the  back  of  her  chair  and  moving  her 
hand  with  his  hand  whenever  it  was  her 
turn. 

I  coughed  as  I  entered,  and  frowned.  I  am 
always  frowning  at  Vincent  these  days,  it 
seems  to  me,  but  I  really  have  to.  He  needs 
a  little  restraint. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Agatha,"  I  said  pleas- 
antly, "  how  does  the  game  progress?  Is 
Lord  Wilfred  an  efficient  teacher? " 

[66] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  Very,"  replied  the  young  lady  shortly,  and 
both  of  them  looked  at  me  with  such  insolent 
hostility  that  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the  room, 
murmuring  apologies  for  intruding. 

I  was  rather  vexed  with  Vincent  about  this ; 
he  doesn't  show  me  quite  the  respect  due  an 
older  man  from  a  boy  of  his  age.  Not  that 
I  am  old,  or  anywhere  near  middle  age,  but 
still  I  am  Vincent's  senior,  and  this  incident 
determined  me  not  to  communicate  my  dis- 
covery to  him.  Why  should  I  tell  him  and 
put  a  formidable  rival  into  the  field !  Not 
that  I  'm  afraid  of  Vincent  exactly,  for  I  have 
always  found  that  when  the  girls  tire  of  his 
fun  they  are  very  glad  to  fall  back  upon  an 
experienced  man  like  myself,  who  has  seen 
the  world  and  is  acquainted  with  Shakespeare 
and  the  musical  glasses.  Nevertheless,  it 
seemed  a  pity  to  invite  Vincent  to  enter  the 

[67] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

lists  against  me,  for  I  had  fully  made  up  my 
mind  to  win  Agatha  Sixth.  Not  that  I  am 
mercenary — not  at  all.  But  it  had  been  some 
time  since  I  seriously  considered  marrying, 
and,  after  all,  I  thought,  why  not  consider  it 
now,  and,  as  long  as  I  was  selecting  a  wife, 
why  not  pick  out  one  of  these  six  girls?  They 
were  all  beautiful  and  accomplished.  "And 
why  not,"  I  asked  myself,  "  while  I  am  about 
it,  make  it  that  one  of  the  Agathas,  whose  title 
was  the  Honorable,  with  twenty  millions?" 
Twenty  millions,  when  you  think  of  it,  ought 
to  keep  a  careful  man  comfortable  for  life,  and 
Vincent  was  smart  enough — let  him  look  out 
for  himself.  And  thus  I  decided  not  to  tell 
him  of  my  discovery. 

We  spent  the  evening  of  that  day  each 
according  to  his  fancy,  —  Vincent  playing  tag 
and  blind-man's  buff  with  four  of  the  girls, 

[68] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

while  the  fifth  played  on  the  piano,  and  I  in 
the  next  room  reading  Edmund  Burke's 
speeches  aloud,  while  my  adored  Agatha  Sixth 
did  fancy-work.  She  really  did  everything  very 
well.  Finally  Vincent  and  I  took  our  leave, 
and  when  we  were  in  our  own  rooms  and 
Vincent  had  wrapped  himself  in  my  favorite 
bathrobe  and  appropriated  my  armchair,  I 
was  almost  tempted  to  tell  him  all  about 
it.  Just  as  I  was  about  to  begin  he  spoke. 

"  Arch,  my  boy,"  he  said  —  a  disrespectful 
method  of  address,  by-the-way,  but  I  let  him 
proceed  —  "Arch,  my  boy,  do  you  know  I  like 
that  girl,  Agatha  First?  She's  a  true  sport; 
and  that  plump  little  one  with  the  blue  eyes 
is  a  pace-setter." 

"  Agatha  Third,  you  mean?  "  I  asked.  "  I 
was  not  aware  that  you  had  got  any  further 
than  our  introduction  with  her." 

[69] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Vincent,  as  though  it  were 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world ;  "I  told  for- 
tunes with  her  all  afternoon  and  played  tag 
with  her  most  of  the  evening  yesterday." 

"Really,  Vincent,"  I  said  sarcastically, 
' '  that  fortune-telling  game  of  yours  is  a  little 
old.  Can't  you  find  something  new?  " 

"  What 's  the  use,  so  long  as  it  works?  "  he 
replied,  watching  the  smoke  from  that  nasty 
pipe  of  his  curl  upward  to  the  ceiling.  "  But 
I  tell  you  what,"  he  pursued  reflectively,  "  that 
girl  with  the  fair  hair  who  played  the  piano, 
Agatha  Fourth,  she 's  a  stunner." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Vincent,"  I  expostulated, 
"where  do  you  find  time  for  so  many  of 
them  at  once?  Doesn't  Agatha  First  feel 
neglected? " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  replied  the  young  insolent, 
"  but  I  can't  help  that.  I  'm  going  to  give 

[70] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

them  all  a  whirl  —  but  Arch'bald  "  -  he  was 
getting  sleepy  and  his  pipe  had  gone  out 
—  "I  really  do  like  red  hair  best." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about, " 
I  said  impatiently  —  "but,  Vincent,  I  want  to 
tell  you  something.  I  've  made  a  discovery." 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  said,  without  the  slightest 
interest,  and  I  changed  my  mind  again. 

"Nothing,"  I  said.  "I've  forgotten  what 
it  was." 

Vincent  rose,  and,  stretching  himself 
mightily,  went  toward  his  own  room.  At  the 
door  he  turned  and  smiled  one  of  the  smiles 
he  does  not  often  give  to  men,  and  I  felt 
that  this  one  was  not  meant  for  me. 

"  I  Ve  made  a  discovery,  too,  Arch, ' '  he  said. 

I  stared  at  him  in  amazement,  wondering 
what  was  coming. 

"What's  that?  "I  asked. 
[71] 


TH  E     REAL     AGATHA 

"  I  Ve  discovered  that  Miss  Marsh's  eyes  are 
gray,  as  gray  as  stars,"  he  said,  only  half -aloud, 
and  disappeared  into  his  room. 

"  Poppycock ! "  I  shouted  as  the  door  closed 
behind  him.  Vincent's  vagaries  are  hard  to 
follow  at  times  —  stars  certainly  are  not  gray. 
That  I  knew  to  be  absurd. 

My  new  knowledge,  while  it  robbed  the 
affair  of  its  piquant  mystery  —  for  I  had  de- 
cided that  Agatha  Sixth  was  in  truth  the  real 
Honorable  Agatha  —  made  my  game  even 
more  exciting,  now  that  the  stakes  were 
assured.  I  read  with  Agatha  Sixth,  walked 
with  her,  talked  with  her,  and  played  chess 
with  her  all  the  first  week;  and  as  nearly 
as  I  could  make  out  Vincent's  programme 
ran  something  like  this:  Before  breakfast  he 
took  a  horseback  ride  with  Agatha  Fifth; 
after  breakfast  he  played  golf  with  Agatha 

[72] 


First;  tennis  with  Agatha  Third;  and  took 
Agatha  Second  out  sketching.  In  the  after- 
noon Agatha  Fourth  played  Chopin  to  him 
by  the  hour.  Agatha  Sixth  he  had  not  ap- 
proached, fearing  me,  as  was  natural.  In  the 
evening  he  played  games  with  them  all  or 
retired  into  the  library  with  Agatha  Fifth, 
who  seemed  to  have  lost  her  head  over  him 
completely. 

This  programme  he  repeated  day  after  day 
with  reckless  lack  of  generalship  and  yet 
every  now  and  then,  to  my  surprise  and  dis- 
gust, I  caught  him  deep  in  his  unfortunate 
flirtation  with  Mrs.  Armistead's  secretary. 
It  wasn't  fair  to  the  poor  girl,  and  I  told 
Vincent  so  plainly.  We  were  sitting  on  the 
low  stone  balustrade  of  the  castle  —  Vincent 
in  riding-clothes  and  looking  as  fine  a  lad  as 
any  in  Old  England.  He  was  waiting  for 

[73] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Agatha  Fifth  to  go  riding  with  him,  although 
it  was  later  than  usual,  all  of  us  having  break- 
fasted. For  myself  I  wore  my  tennis  things, 
which  become  me  greatly,  if  I  do  say  it,  for 
I  intended  to  play  a  set  with  those  tennis 
fanatics,  Agatha  Second  and  Agatha  Third, 
as  the  aristocratic  Agatha  Sixth  was  a  late 
riser  and  had  not  yet  come  downstairs. 

"  No,  Vincent,"  I  said,  "  it  won't  do.  Flirt 
with  all  the  Agathas,  if  you  must,  but  when 
it  comes  to  the  secretary,  let  her  alone.  To 
say  nothing  of  what  is  due  to  her,  think  of 
the  time  you  're  wasting.  We  have  only  six 
weeks  —  think  of  it  —  six  weeks  to  make  a 
try  for  twenty  millions  of  dollars !  " 

"  You  forgot  to  say  that  a  wife  goes  along 
with  the  filthy  lucre,"  he  said,  and  somehow 
I  felt  uncomfortable.  Vincent  has  a  faculty 
for  making  one  feel  uncomfortable.  It  makes 

[74] 


THE     REAL     A  (i  AT  HA 

me  quite  angry  —  lie  \s  no  better  than  the  rest 
of  us,  but  he's  so  confoundedly  innocent 
about  some  things. 

I  was  going  to  explain  to  him  that  he 
needn't  speak  as  if  he  thought  that  I  were 
the  sort  of  man  to  marry  a  girl  merely  for  her 
money  —  when  his  face  lighted  and  he  spoke 
more  rationally. 

"  Gad,"  he  said,  "  what  a  rare  lark  it  would 
be  to  toss  up  a  coin  and  take  a  chance  at  it ! 
Six  to  one  only  —  you  'd  have  a  good  show  to 
win  out !  " 

"  How  foolish  you  are,  Vincent !  '  I  re- 
sponded. "  Suppose  you  took  a  chance  at  it, 
as  you  say,  and  just  proposed  to  any  one  of 
them,  when  you  had  made  no  attempt  to  win 
her,  —  wouldn't  she  know  you  were  fortune- 
hunting?  And  if  it  should  happen  to  be  the 
real  Agatha  she  'd  refuse  you  on  that  account 

[751 


THE     R  K  A  L     A  G  A  T  H  A 

because  it  would  defeat  the  object  of  her 
father's  will;  and  if  it  were  not  the  real 
Agatha  she  'd  refuse  you,  too,  because  she  'd 
know  she  had  no  fortune  to  give  you." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Vincent,  sighing,  "  you  're 
right  about  that.  But  I  tell  you,  Archibald, 
I'm  not  flirting  with  Miss  Marsh.  She  's  an 
awfully  sensible  little  girl,  and  I  go  to  her  for 
advice  about  the  course  I  'm  pursuing  with  the 
Agathas.  I  need  encouragement,  you  know; 
it's  all  such  a  beastly  mess.  One  doesn't 
know  with  which  one  of  the  attractive 
young  ladies  to  fall  in  love.  It 's  so  diffi- 
cult to  decide  with  that  twenty  millions  hov- 
ering in  the  background.  Just  think,  Arch, 
what  the  governor  would  say  if  his  penniless 
younger  son  should  bring  that  amount  into 
the  family !  And  the  daughter  of  a  baroness, 
too,  it  would  be  such  a  match!  I  can  just 

[76] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

see  how  tickled  he  'd  be  to  have  his  youngest 
so  well  provided  for.  The  dear  old  governor !  " 
And  Vincent's  eyes  moistened.  "  So  you 
see,"  he  went  on  hurriedly,  "Miss  Marsh's 
attitude  toward  me  is  entirely  friendly.  She 
is  merely  the  confidante  of  my  difficulties  of 
the  heart,  and  her  taste,  I  find,  is  excellent." 

"It  is  also  changeable,"  I  said  dryly,  "if 
the  course  you  have  been  pursuing  is  through 
advice  of  hers." 

Vincent  smiled.  "And  then  you  know," 
he  went  on,  ignoring  my  thrust,  "  she 's  writ- 
ing a  very  interesting  book,  the  history  of  the 
Barons  of  Wyckhoff,  and  I'm  helping  her. 
I  'm  awf 'ly  interested  in  genealogy,  y'  know." 

This  was  true.  Incongruous  as  it  may 
seem,  Vincent's  one  serious  hobby  —  I  don't 
consider  his  paint-dabbling  serious — which 
had  to  do  with  research  and  scholarship,  was 

[77] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

his  love  for  things  ancient  in  general,  and 
family  trees  in  particular.  It  had  been  Baron- 
ess Wyckhoff  s  wish  that  some  review  of  the 
lives  of  the  Barons  of  that  name  should  be 
made,  since  the  last  one  had  died,  and  Mrs. 
Armistead  had  given  her  secretary  this  work  to 
do.  I  eyed  Vincent  searchingly  as  he  spoke, 
but  his  face  was  so  thoroughly  unconscious 
that  my  suspicions  were  disarmed  completely. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "there  are  a  lot  of  very 
interesting  old  books  in  that  library." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "that's  why  you  and  Miss 
Marsh  spend  so  much  time  there,  I  suppose. 
I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  I  really  couldn't  see 
what  you  thought  was  so  attractive — "  A 
sharp  blow  in  the  chest  interrupted  my  speech. 

"Shut  up,"  Vincent  hissed  in  my  ear; 
"  don't  you  see  Miss  Marsh?  " 

As  he  spoke  that  young  person  tripped 
[78] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

lightly  up  the  wide  stone  steps  of  the  veranda 
and  was  about  to  pass  on  when  Vincent 
stopped  her. 

"Good  morning,"  he  said,  his  hat  in  his 
hand.  "Are  you  beginning  work  so  early  I  " 
and  he  looked  at  the  papers  she  carried  under 
her  arm. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  have  a  new  idea  about 
that  last  chapter  we  wrote." 

"I'm  sorry  I  can't  be  with  you  this  morn- 
ing," he  answered,  and  she  passed  into  the 
house.  She  wore  a  white  frock  and  a  natty 
little  blue  apron,  and  I  must  admit  looked 
very  fresh  and  dainty,  but  Wilfred's  tone  was 
so  cool  and  conventional  that  I  mentally 
freed  him  again  from  my  accusation  that  he 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  warm  flirtation,  though 
you  will  agree  with  me  that  appearances  had 
been  very  much  against  him. 

[79] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

But  that  evening  when  he  and  I  were 
having  our  nightly  bedroom  colloquy  I  was 
obliged  to  admit  that  Vincent,  considering  his 
methods,  had  accomplished  a  great  deal. 
With  some  embarrassment  he  related  to  me 
the  tale  of  his  horseback  ride  in  the  morning, 
and  I  must  say  it  completely  unsettled  my 
belief  in  the  discovery  I  had  made  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  real  Honorable  Agatha  Wyck- 
hoff.  Neither  Vincent  nor  I  knew  what  to 
make  of  it. 

"  Do  you  know,  Arch,"  he  said,  striding  up 
and  down  my  room,  "  I  've  been  through  a 
horrible  experience  to-day?  It  was  an  awful 
shock  to  me,  and  a  lesson." 

"I'm  glad  it  was  a  lesson,"  said  L  There 
are  so  few  lessons  in  Vincent's  life. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "I  felt  like  a  beastly  cad. 
And  I  don't  see  what  I  Ve  done  to  deserve  it. 

[80] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Of  course,  I  've  held  her  hand  a  couple  of 
times  —  " 

"  That  bad  habit  of  yours  again,"  I 
murmured. 

"And  I've  looked  at  her  a  lot — she's  got 
the  most  soul-moving  eyes  y'  know." 

I  did  n't  know,  but  I  nodded.  The  boy  was 
very  much  in  earnest. 

"But  I  never  thought,"  he  went  on  —  "I 
never  thought  she  —  she  —  "  He  stopped  and 
the  words  seemed  to  stick  in  his  throat. 

"  Great  Heaven,  man,"  I  cried  in  my  impa- 
tience, "get  it  out.  What  didn't  you  think 
she'd  do?" 

"  I  never  thought  she  'd  really  care  for  me," 
he  muttered  shamefacedly,  and  turned  his 
back  on  me. 

"What  do  you  mean? "  I  demanded  impa- 
tiently. He  is  most  exasperating. 

[81] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  Why,  this."  He  ceased  his  restless  walk 
and  stood  on  the  hearth-rug,  facing  me. 
"  We'd  been  out  about  an  hour  this  morning, 
Agatha  Fifth  and  I,  and  we  'd  been  getting 
up  into  the  hilly  country,  when  suddenly  we 
came  out  of  the  woods  and  saw  below  us  the 
grandest  stretch  of  country  you  can  imagine." 

Here  he  broke  off  and  went  into  a  rhapsody 
over  the  sky-line  and  the  grazing  sheep,  and 
said  something  about  Utopia  and  Eden  and 
other  things  like  that,  until  he  got  through  at 
last  and  came  to  the  interesting  part.  They 
can't  help  going  on  like  that,  these  artist 
fellows,  and  Vincent  never  loses  an  oppor- 
tunity to  get  in  a  bit  of  description. 

"  Well,"  he  continued,  "I  was  just  enjoying 
that  view  and  saying  nothing,  when  she 
stopped  switching  the  tops  off  the  harebells 
with  her  crop  and,  turning  those  warm  hazel 

[82] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

eyes  of  hers  on  me,  she  said  in  a  low  voice, 
as  if  what  she  said  did  n't  matter  at  all,  '  I 
love  you !  ' 

"  What !  "  I  shouted.     "  She  did  n't  *  " 

"She  did,"  asserted  Vincent  ruefully,  but 
with  firmness  —  "  She  did.  Just  like  that,  out 
of  a  clear  sky.  Simply  folded  her  hands  and 
looked  at  me  and  told  me  she  loved  me." 

"Angels  and  ministers  of  grace,  defend  us !  " 
I  ejaculated.  Nothing  else  seemed  adequate. 
"  What  under  the  sun  did  you  do!  " 

"  Why,  I  told  her  simply  that  I  did  n't  love 
her,  and  could  n't  marry  her,  and  I  was  very 
sorry,  but  I  thought  we  'd  better  get  on  our 
horses  and  go  home." 

"Quite  right,  if  you  don't  really  care,"  I 
said, "  but  oh,  Vincent ! "  as  a  thought  struck  me, 
"  just  think,  she  might  have  been  the  Honor- 
able Agatha  —  the  real  and  only  Honorable ! ' 

[83] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  She  was !  ' '  said  Vincent. 

I  was  speechless.  This  was  the  end  of  it 
then.  I  saw  the  millions  taking  unto  them- 
selves wings,  and  my  pan  of  milk  spilled.  The 
real  Honorable  Agatha  had  been  discovered, 
the  secret  was  out,  but  she  had  avowed  herself 
as  loving  Vincent  and  he  had  spurned  her. 
After  such  a  performance  there  was  no  chance 
for  either  of  us. 

"How  do  you  know  she  was?"  I  asked 
weakly. 

"  She  told  me  so  herself,"  he  answered. 

"  But  after  you  refused  her,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  Vincent  resignedly. 

"But,  Wilfred,  my  boy,"  I  cried,  springing 
up,  and  knocking  off  my  glasses  in  my  excite- 
ment, "couldn't  you  change  your  mind, 
couldn't  you  fix  it  up?  If  she  really  cared  I 
should  think  you  could !  " 

[84] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Though  this  event  would  have  proved  the 
deathblow  to  my  own  hopes,  still  my  interest 
in  Vincent's  welfare  is  so  genuine  that  I 
couldn't  help  this  anxious  expostulation. 
But  again  he  misunderstood. 

"  You  don't  mean  that,  I  know,  Arch,"  he 
said.  "  Of  course  I  would  n't  marry  the  girl 
when  I  really  don't  care  for  her.  But  was  n't 
it  the  deuce  of  a  position  to  be  in?  " 

"Oh,  Wilfred,  Wilfred!"  I  mourned, 
"  twenty  millions  right  in  your  grasp,  and  you 
threw  them  away.  I  wish  I'd  had  your 
chance.  Your  poor  father,  how  disappointed 
he  'd  be  if  he  knew." 

"  He  'd  be  more  disappointed  in  me  if  I  had 
changed  my  mind  and  said  I  would  marry 
her  just  for  the  sake  of  the  money,"  said  the 
young  man  crossly,  and  turning  on  his  heel 
he  left  the  room.  Vincent's  getting  more 

[85] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

quick-tempered  every  day  lately,  and  he  used 
to  be  so  good-natured.  I  'm  sure  it  was  only 
natural  and  very  disinterested  in  me  to  bewail 
for  him  the  result  of  the  unfortunate  affair 
that  morning. 


[86] 


Chapter 
Fo  u  r 


m  ^lOR  some  days  after  that  I  was  in  a 
I  1  quandary.  Here,  in  the  face  of  my 
discovery  in  the  library,  was  Vincent's 
positive  information  that  Agatha  Fifth  was 
the  heiress.  Reluctantly  I  determined  that 
the  likeness  between  Agatha  Sixth  and  the 
picture  of  the  Baroness  was  accidental,  and 
began  to  devote  myself  to  the  unfortunate 
Agatha  Fifth.  She  seemed  much  inclined  to 
discourage  me,  but  I  persevered  and  we  soon 
became  great  friends.  I  found  she  was  only 
eighteen,  and  drew  my  own  conclusions  from 
this  fact.  At  eighteen  one's  convictions  are 
never  very  deep-rooted,  neither  are  one's  love 
affairs,  and  I  thought  it  likely  that  the  girl 

[89] 


THE     RKAL     AGATHA 

would  soon  forget  her  ill-prospered  attach- 
ment for  Vincent's  handsome  face,  and  might 
begin  to  think  of  someone  else.  Surely  this 
was  a  very  natural  belief !  So  the  first  two 
weeks  of  our  stay  at  the  castle  sped  by  and 
I  saw  to  my  satisfaction  that  I  was  gaining 
ground  with  the  Honorable  Agatha  every 
day,  while  poor  Vincent  wasted  his  time 
flirting  with  each  Agatha  in  turn  (he  had 
taken  up  Agatha  Sixth  since  my  desertion) 
or  in  assisting  Miss  Marsh  to  write  up  a  lot  of 
old  dead  barons  who  were  much  better  left  to 
a  decent  and  dignified  obscurity. 

One  day,  toward  the  close  of  the  two  weeks, 
I  met  Vincent  hurrying  through  the  hall 
toward  the  stairs.  He  had  on  an  old  vel- 
veteen coat  covered  with  paint  daubs,  his 
luncheon-basket  was  over  his  shoulder,  and  I 
guessed  that  he  was  going  on  one  of  his 

[90] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

sketching  tours  in  search  of  fresh  woods  and 
pastures  new. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Wilfred?  "  I  asked 
as  he  stopped,  "  and  where  's  Agatha  Second?  " 
She  usually  accompanied  him  on  his  sketch- 
ing expeditions. 

"Painting,"  he  replied  concisely,  ignoring 

\ 

my  second  question ;  "  and  where  may  you  be 
goingl " 

"For  a  walk  with  Agatha  Fifth,"  I  an- 
swered, smiling  at  him  —  a  little  pityingly, 
perhaps.  He  had  lost  such  a  chance  ! 

Vincent  chuckled  and  his  eyes  looked 
wicked.  "Wish  you  luck,  Arch,"  he  said. 
"I've  been  watching  your  charitable  efforts 
to  cut  me  out  and  be  a  father  to  my  little 
friend,  Agatha  Fifth,  with  great  admiration 
—  but  I  forgot  to  tell  you  "  —  he  lowered  his 
voice,  for  we  could  see  Agatha  Second  on 

[91] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

the  veranda  talking  to  Agatha  Fifth  —  "I 
forgot  to  tell  you  that  what  Agatha  Fifth 
told  me  is  n't  true !  " 

"Isn't  true? "  I  repeated  in  consternation. 

"No;  she  confessed  to  me  about  a  week 
ago  that  she  only  said  she  was  the  real 
Honorable  Agatha  to  make  me  marry  her. 
She  thought,  the  foolish  little  girl,  that  she 
only  had  to  tell  me  she  was  the  heiress  to 
make  me  love  her.  And  she  said  she  was 
sorry  and  wouldn't  do  it  again  and  cried 
like  a  child,  and  I  forgave  her  and  com- 
forted her.  She  '11  get  over  it  all  right !  " 
and  laughing  hilariously  the  young  rascal 
ran  upstairs. 

I  was  really  vexed  with  Wilfred  about  this. 
I  thought  it  was  very  unkind  of  him  to  keep  me 
in  the  dark  for  so  long  about  Agatha  Fifth's 
confession.  ,  What  a  lot  of  time  I  'd  been 

[92] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

wasting!  I  resolved  that  I  would  return  to 
Agatha  Sixth  at  the  first  opportunity,  and  I 
felt  glad,  even  justified,  that  I  had  not  told 
him  about  that  album  which  had  betrayed 
the  secret  to  me.  At  this  moment  Agatha 
Second  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Hullo,  Mr.  Terhune,"  she  said,  "  where  's 
Lord  Wilfred!" 

'* He  went  upstairs,"  I  said;  "  I  don't  know 
for  what."  I  could  hear  him  in  the  distance 
singing  at  the  top  of  his  lusty  young  voice  — 

"  Gentlemen  rankers  all  are  we-e-e  "  — 

till  an  ear-splitting  shout  from  Agatha  Second 
drowned  the  song  completely. 

"  O-h-h-h,  Freddy,"  shrieked  the  young  lady, 
with  a  lung  power  that  equalled  Vincent's. 

I  shivered  with  indignation  at  the  liberty. 
"Freddy"  indeed! 

[93] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

At  the  third  shout  he  heard  her  and  stopped 
singing  to  rend  the  air  with  an  answering 
cry. 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  what  are  you  so  long 
about!  "  she  called.  "  Do  hurry  up !  ' 

"  Coming !  "  roared  Vincent,  clattering  down 
the  two  nights  of  stairs  like  a  wild  horse, 
and  I  hurried  out  to  join  Agatha  Fifth,  my 
hands  over  my  ears.  Young  people  are  so 
noisy  nowadays. 

Several  evenings  later  Agatha  Fourth  had 
arranged  to  give  a  progressive  dinner-party. 
She  was  to  be  the  hostess  and  the  rest  of  us 
were  her  guests.  It  was  an  evening-dress 
affair,  and  I  must  say,  as  we  sat  down  to 
dinner,  I  never  saw  a  prettier  group  of 
girls. 

Then  the  fun  began.  Agatha  Fourth's  idea 
in  having  a  progressive  dinner-party  was  for 

[94] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

each  of  the  girls  to  move  up  one  place  with 
each  course  so  that  they  could  all  have  turns 
sitting  by  us.  It  was  delightful:  really,  I 
don't  know  that  I  ever  attended  a  jollier 
dinner-party.  Vincent  kept  quoting  from 
the  Mad  Tea-party  in  "  Alice  in  Wonderland," 
and  the  girls  laughed  at  every  single  thing  he 
said.  Mrs.  Armistead,  I  am  ashamed  to  say, 
was  not  present:  her  head  ached  and  she 
had  dined  in  her  room.  I  am  not  naturally 
noisy  or  riotous,  but  the  laughter  and  jokes 
of  those  six  girls  were  so  infectious  that  I 
was  obliged  to  join  in  with  them.  Vincent 
sat  at  one  end  of  the  table  and  I  at  the  other, 
with  three  girls  on  each  side  of  us.  The 
secretary,  of  course,  was  not  present. 

Agatha  Fourth  had  decorated  the  table 
with  some  of  the  yellow  roses  and  wild  fern 
that  grew  near  the  castle.  Agatha  Sixth  and 

[95] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  had  found  them  many  times  in  our  wander- 
ings and,  by-the-way,  she  was  looking  es- 
pecially lovely  that  evening.  The  girls  all 
wore  shimmering  white  gowns,  similar  in 
design,  with  silver  ornaments,  but  Agatha 
Sixth's  gown  was  cream-color  with  ornaments 
of  gold,  and  well  did  it  become  her  dark 
beauty. 

We  had  reached  the  very  end  of  the  dinner, 
and  had  just  made  the  last  change  of  places, 
which  left  me  with  my  favorite  Agatha  Sixth 
on  my  right  and  Agatha  Third  on  my  left. 

Suddenly,  as  the  talk  died  down  and  a 
certain  contented  silence  fell  upon  us,  Yin- 
cent  rose  to  his  feet,  and  bowing  to  us 
formally,  began  to  speak: 

"Ladies  and  gentleman,"  he  said,  making 
the  last  word  pointedly  singular,  while  the 
girls  all  laughed,  "I  think  you  are  all  with 

[96] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

me  when  I  propose  a  vote  of  thanks  to  —  to 
—  er  —  our  hostess"  -(I  felt  that  he  had 
nearly  said  "  Agatha  Fourth  !  "  )  —  "  our 
hostess,  for  giving  us  so  delightful  an  en- 
tertainment." He  bowed  to  Agatha  Fourth 
and  went  on : 

"If  all  progressive  tea-parties  are  termed 
mad  I  hope  I  may  attend  many  such.  But 
as  I  look  around  me,  gentleman  and  ladies 
fair,  across  the  red  glow  of  the  candles  that 
turns  the  roses  to  redder  gold,  and  as  I  gaze 
upon  the  youth  and  beauty  here  assembled, 
the  like  of  which  I  have  never  before  looked 
upon  "  —  he  made  a  courtly  inclination  of  his 
head  that  included  every  maid  at  the  table, 
and  they  all  sighed  —  I  heard  them  —  "  as  I 
look  upon  this  noble  room,  this  exquisite 
table,  and  think  of  the  graciousness  of  such 
hospitality,  I  am  inspired  to  propose  a  toast 

[97] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

in  which  I  feel  confident  you  will  all  join 
me."  At  this  climax  Vincent  raised  his  glass 
above  his  head.  "To  the  real  Agatha!  "  he 
cried  —  "to  the  real  Honorable  Agatha!  ' 

There  was  an  instant  of  dead  silence,  and 
then  to  my  surprise  my  left-hand  neighbor, 
Agatha  Third,  rose  to  her  feet,  and,  with 
quivering  lips,  started  to  say  something.  But 
she  had  hardly  time  to  rise  before  the  other 
five  girls  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  raising  their 
glasses,  Agatha  Third  with  the  rest,  they  cried 
with  one  voice,  "  To  the  Honorable  Agatha !  " 
and  although  it  seemed  to  me  that  Agatha 
Third  had  very  nearly  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag 
by  rising,  as  if  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy, 
yet  by  the  promptness  of  the  other  girls  the 
day  was  partially  retrieved,  and  Vincent  and 
I  were  still  somewhat  at  a  loss  as  to  the 
identity  of  our  fair  and  wealthy  hostess. 

[98] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  asked  Vincent  afterward  what  he  made 
of  Agatha  Third's  behavior. 

"  It  looked  to  me,"  said  that  young  person, 
"  as  if  those  girls  had  themselves  so  much  in 
command  that  they  would  never  betray  the 
secret  they  're  guarding,  no  matter  what  you 
did." 

"  But  did  n't  you  see  Agatha  Third  get  up 
before  the  others  did?"  I  said  excitedly. 
"  She  gave  herself  away.  I  tell  you,  Wil- 
fred, she 's  the  real  Honorable,  without  a 
doubt.  There  can  be  no  two  ways  about 
it!" 

" How  keen  you  are!  "  he  said;  "  and  I  tell 
you  what  it  is,  Arch'bald"  —  Vincent  always 
calls  me  "Arch'bald"  with  the  "i"  left  out 
and  the  emphasis  on  "bald"  when  he's 
particularly  affectionate  or  sleepy;  he  was 
the  latter  just  now  — "  I  'm  just  as  keen 

[99] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

about  marrying  this  heiress  as  you  are;  the 
only  difference  is  that  I  insist  upon  being 
in  love  with  her  into  the  bargain,  and  you 
don't.  For  I  'm  hard  up,  fearfully  hard  up, 
you  know,  and  the  governor's  so  awfully 
good,  I  hate  to  ask  him  for  another  month's 
allowance  just  now.  I'm  'way  behind  as 
it  is,  and  I  owe  Jack  Gordon  for  that  prize 
polo-pony  of  his.  I  offered  him  a  hundred 
pounds  for  her  the  day  of  the  Hurlingham 
games  and  he  sold  her  to  me  on  the  spot. 
Jack's  as  hard  up  as  I  am  —  poor  fellow. 
And  then,  you  know,  it 's  all  perfectly  fair.  If 
we  only  had  the  time,  that 's  all.  It 's  pretty 
quick  work  to  expect  a  man  to  find  out  the 
heiress,  learn  to  love  her  and  teach  her  to 
love  him,  all  in  six  weeks,  and  propose  on 
the  last  day  of  --" 

"  But  that 's  just  it,"  I  interrupted,  "  you  're 
[100] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

not  expected  to  find  out  the  heiress  first. 
That 's  just  what  old  Fletcher  Boycl  wanted  to 
prevent  when  he  made  the  will." 

"  Nevertheless,  you  yourself  mean  to  find 
out  first,  don't  you,  Arch! "  was  Vincent's 
facetious  response. 

I  was  disgusted  and  made  no  answer. 

"Of  course,"  he  went  on,  "I  wouldn't 
propose  to  any  girl  I  didn't  love,  but  I'd 
like  the  chance  to  learn  to  love  this  partic- 
ular lady,  the  Honorable  Agatha.  I  feel 
that  there  would  be  no  trouble  about  her 
learning  to  love  me!  ' 

Vincent  has  few  really  serious  faults,  but  I 
don't  attempt  to  deny  that  he  is  conceited. 

"The  trouble  is,"  he  said,  "they're  all  so 
attractive  I  could  love  one  as  well  as  another. 
I  wish,  though,  I  could  just  naturally  fall  in 
love  with  one  of  them,  and  I  'd  propose  to 

[101] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

her  on  the  last  day  and  take  my  chances. 
Who  knows!  I'm  sometimes  lucky.  I 
might  win  the  prize !  " 

"So  you  might,"  I  said,  "but  as  it  is,  we 
haven't  even  discovered  the  heiress  as 

yet-" 

"  And  I  can't  fall  in  love  with  any  of  'em," 
finished  Vincent,  "  because  I  'm  madly  in  love 
with  the  whole  six,  and  there  you  are !  "  and 
he  shook  his  head  hopelessly.  "  Come,  let 's 
to  bed,"  he  added. 

"Not  just  yet,  Freddy,"  I  said.  I  never 
call  him  that,  as  I  have  before  stated,  but  his 
hair  was  all  rumpled  up  and  his  face  flushed 
and  I  felt  warm  toward  him  because  he  was 
so  dense.  "  Surely  with  a  rival  as  unobserv- 
ing  as  he  is,"  I  thought,  "I  am  not  heavily 
handicapped."  For  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
that  Agatha  Third  was  indeed  the  real  and 

[102] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

only  Agatha.  That  involuntary  rising  of 
hers  was  proof  positive. 

"I  say,  Vincent,"  I  called  after  him,  "was 
that  a  master  stroke  of  yours,  giving  the  toast 
that  way?  Did  you  intend  to  try  to  surprise 
one  of  them  into  betraying  herself!  " 

Vincent  laughed  sleepily. 

"  G-ood  old  Arch'bald,"  he  drawled,  "you  're 
always  looking  for  master  strokes,  but  'pon 
my  honor  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing." 
And  I  might  have  known  that  he  wouldn't. 

Left  to  myself,  I  was  thinking  out  my  plan 
of  campaign  as  regarded  Agatha  Third  when 
a  slight  noise  in  the  back  of  the  room  attracted 
my  attention.  I  looked  up,  startled,  for  it 
was  late,  and  the  large,  dimly  lighted  drawing- 
room  was  rather  an  eerie  place,  and  saw  over 
the  back  of  my  chair  the  slight  form  of  the 
secretary  approaching.  Her  hair  was  as  neat 

[103] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

as  usual  and  her  dress  was  the  same  simple 
gray  gown  she  wore  when  I  had  seen  her 
first. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Terhune,"  she 
said  timidly,  yet  without  hesitation.  "I 
am  sorry  to  disturb  you,  but  would  you 
have  the  goodness  to  give  me  a  little  of  your 
time!  " 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied,  rising,  "  though  the 
hour  is  late.  Won't  you  be  seated?  "  and  I 
found  her  a  chair.  The  secretary  leaned  back 
against  it  and  folded  her  hands. 

"I  shall  be  quick,"  she  said;  "but  I  want 
to  ask  you  something. ' '  She  spoke  in  a  low 
voice,  but  with  perfect  composure,  though 
she  never  lifted  her  eyes.  I  caught  myself 
wondering  whether  she  cast  them  down 
habitually,  so  that  people  might  observe  the 
length  of  her  black  eyelashes. 

[104] 


T  H  E     R  K  A  L     A  G  A  T  H  A 

"  Yes?  "  I  said,  to  encourage  her. 

"  Of  course,  you  know  Lord  Vincent  very 
well,  don't  you? "  As  she  asked  me  this 
direct  question  she  looked  me  full  in  the 
face,  and  as  my  eyes  met  hers  I  mentally 
thanked  her  for  her  mercy  in  not  often  per- 
mitting man  to  gaze  into  them. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  recovering  myself ,  "I  know 
him  very  well." 

"  And  he  tells  you  things,  doesn't  he?  " 

"Most  things,"  I  replied,  wondering  at 
what  she  was  driving. 

"  Then  could  you  tell  me,  please,  if  —  if  he 
accepted  Miss  Agatha  —  the  one  with  the 
hazel  eyes  that  you  call  Agatha  Fifth  —  when 
she  told  him  she  loved  him!  " 

I  was  never  more  astounded  in  my  life. 
How  did  she  know  that  Agatha  Fifth  had  told 
Vincent  she  loved  him,  and  how  did  it  concern 

[105] 


T  H  K     R  K  A  L     AGATHA 

her?  Perhaps,  however,  she  was  acting  under 
Mrs.  Armistead's  orders,  but  if  so  she  ought 
to  have  said  so. 

"  That 's  a  question  of  a  very  personal 
nature,"  I  said,  and  eyed  her  searchingly; 
"  but  I  don't  think  Lord  Vincent  would  mind, 
as  long  as  you  know  so  much  about  it,  if  I 
tell  you  that  he  refused  the  young  lady  who 
was  indiscreet  enough  to  ask  him  to  marry 
her." 

The  secretary  gave  a  sudden  start,  and  then, 
by  what  seemed  to  be  considerable  effort, 
regained  control  of  herself. 

"He  refused  her,"  I  continued  —  for  the 
girl  and  her  questions  and  her  genuine  feeling 
interested  me  —  "although  she  told  him  she 
was  the  real  Honorable  Agatha."  I  was  so 
proud  of  Vincent  for  that  that  I  was  glad  to 
be  able  to  tell  someone  about  it. 

[106] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"She  said  that — and  he  refused  her?" 
repeated  the  girl  in  an  awed  tone.  "  How 
could  he  do  it,  how  could  he!  " 

"  Then  it  was  true?  She  is  really  the 
daughter  of  Fletcher  Boyd?  "  I  cried  eagerly. 
At  last  I  had  stumbled  upon  the  truth,  for  I 
knew  the  secretary  was  in  the  secret. 

But  she  only  smiled  at  me.  "  You  are  a 
good  man,"  she  said,  "  a  good  man." 

The  room  was  growing  chilly  and  the  fire 
was  getting  low,  and  as  she  spoke  she  slipped 
down  from  the  high  chair  and  seated  herself 
on  a  little  stool  at  my  feet,  stretching  out  her 
slim  hands  toward  the  blaze.  "  I  thank  you," 
she  said  simply,  and  gazed  into  the  fire  a 
moment,  while  I  gazed  at  her  slender  young 
figure,  her  pink  and  white  skin,  straight,  little, 
nose,  and  wide,  red  mouth  with  its  Du  Maurier 
chin  —  and  all  in  a  moment  I  felt  myself 

[107] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

pitying  the  poor  little  girl.  Vincent  was  such 
an  attractive  young  scamp,  he  might  be  play- 
ing fast  and  loose  with  her  affections  without 
intending  it  or  realizing  that  he  was  doing  so. 
Involuntarily  I  leaned  toward  her. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  I  said,  and  as  I 
spoke  I  caught  myself  thinking  her  really 
good-looking.  "If  she  only  did  her  hair 
decently,"  I  thought,  "  I  'd  call  her  a  beauty, 
I  really  believe  I  should."  "  My  dear  young 
lady,"  I  said,  "tell  me  in  confidence  and 
perhaps  I  can  help  you.  Do  you  —  er  —  are 
you  —  er  —  er  —  interested  in  Lord  Wilfred? 
If  so,  allow  me,  I  conjure  you,  nay,  I  beg  of 
you,  to  put  all  thought  of  him  out  of  your 
head.  He  does  n't  mean  it,  but  he  is  a  grace- 
less young  flirt.  He  does  n't  mean  a  word  he 
says.  Let  me  warn  you  —  be  advised  —  " 

I  stopped  short.  In  the  midst  of  my 
1 108  ] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

well-meant  flow  of  words,  I  stopped  short, 
for,  could  I  believe  my  eyes,  the  secretary 
was  laughing  at  me. 

"My  dear  old  man,"  she  said  —  she  did, 
actually  —  "  my  dear  old  man,  your  warnings 
are  superfluous,  for  I  am  a  married  woman," 
and,  still  laughing,  she  left  the  room. 


[109] 


Chapter 
Five 


CHAPTER    FIVE 

jt  LONE,  I  sat  for  a  moment  speechless 

>^J     with  astonishment,  as  the  secretary 

left  the  room,  and,  as  I  took  my  way 

slowly  and  thoughtfully  upstairs,  I  resolved 

that  this  was  another  thing  that  I  would  not 

tell  Vincent ;  he  would  be  far  more  likely  to 

ridicule  me  than  to  thank  me  for  my  effort 

in  his  behalf. 

Some  time  after  this,  on  a  perfect  day, 
Agatha  Third  and  I  —  I  had  spent  almost 
every  hour  since  the  dinner  in  her  company, 
I  may  remark  —  had  planned  a  little  excursion 
which  would  keep  us  outdoors  all  day.  We 
were  going  on  a  picnic  up  the  little  river. 
Have  you  ever  tried  a  picnic  for  two?  Given 

[113] 


THE    REAL    AGATHA 

the  right  companion  and  a  day  like  that,  I  'd 
warrant  it  to  cure  any  attack  of  the  blues. 
Agatha  Third  had  assured  me  that  the  pretti- 
est spot  for  our  luncheon  was  a  little  island 
in  the  centre  of  the  stream  where  the  current 
ran  broad  and  deep,  about  three  miles  below 
the  castle. 

The  day  was  fair,  the  girl  was  fairer,  and 
the  moments  were  full  of  joy  to  me.  We  had 
crossed  a  little  bridge  about  a  mile  from  the 
castle  and  were  proceeding  up  the  left  bank 
of  the  river  when  a  sudden  turn  of  the  stream 
brought  two  others  of  our  house-party  into 
view.  On  the  opposite  bank  was  Vincent  in 
high  boots,  knickerbockers,  white  shirt  with 
sleeves  rolled  up,  and  a  farmer's  broad- 
brimmed  hat  of  straw.  He  was  busy  over  a 
broken  fishing-rod  which  he  was  trying  to 
mend.  In  the  centre  of  the  stream,  where  , 

[114] 


THE    REAL    AGATHA 

the  current  ran  swift  and  dangerously  deep, 
a  girl  stood  on  a  large  bowlder,  fishing.  Other 
bowlders  at  intervals  between  the  one  she  was 
standing  on  and  the  shore  where  Vincent 
was  indicated  the  means  by  which  she  had 
attained  her  precarious  position.  I  recognized 
the  girl  as  Agatha  Second,  and  smiled  pity- 
ingly as  I  thought  of  poor  Vincent,  invariably 
wasting  his  time  with  the  wrong  Agatha. 

"Hullo!'  they  cried  cheerfully,  and  we 
waved  our  hands  and  asked  them  what  luck 
they  'd  had.  This  is  n't  always  a  safe  question 
to  ask  a  fisherman,  but  I  notice  that  people 
who  are  not  fishing  themselves  invariably  find 
great  satisfaction  in  asking  it.  Vincent  said 
he  hadn't  caught  any  fish,  and  asked  if  I'd 
landed  mine  yet.  Just  like  his  impudence! 
He  'd  say  anything  if  he  thought  it  was  funny, 
no  matter  how  it  might  annoy  other  people. 

[115] 


Just  as  I  was  thinking  of  some  retort  polite 
enough  to  utter  aloud,  Agatha  Second's  rod 
began  to  bend  and  jerk,  and  immediately  there 
was  so  much  action  going  on  that  in  my 
excitement  I  forgot  what  I  was  about  to  say. 
I  am  a  fisherman  of  some  skill  myself. 
Well,  the  pole  began  to  bend  and  the  Agatha 
on  the  rock  began  to  scream,  and  Vincent 
shouted  directions  from  the  bank  — "  Easy 
there,  easy,"  he  entreated  her;  "give  him 
more  line,  Aggie,  more  line." 

"  I  can't !  ' '  she  screamed  at  the  top  of  her 
voice ;  "  something 's  caught,  and  lie  pulls 
so." 

"  The  reel !  "  I  shouted,  jumping  up  and 
down.  "The  reel!  Press  the  knob  and  let 
her  go ! ' 

I  knew  in  a  moment  the  sort  she  had.  It 
was  just  like  mine,  a  patent  one  with  a  spring 

[116] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

reel  —  mine  often  stuck  that  way.  All  this 
time  the  fish  was  leaping  about,  sometimes 
jumping  out  of  the  water  so  that  we  could 
see  him,  and  he  was  a  big  fellow. 

"Let  me  alone;  I  can  do  it  myself,"  cried 
the  girl  as  Vincent  started  to  help  her,  but 
even  as  she  spoke  her  trim  little  foot  slipped 
on  the  wet  stone,  and,  losing  her  balance 
completely,  she  fell  backward  into  the  deep 
water,  while  the  rod  disappeared  upstream. 

In  a  moment  Vincent  was  running  at  top 
speed  along  the  bank  till  he  came  to  a  little 
point  of  land  near  which  the  drowning  girl 
must  pass.  As  she  approached  he  leaped  into 
the  water,  and,  striking  diagonally  upstream, 
seized  her  by  her  clothing,  and,  fighting  his 
way  back,  safely  gained  the  point  of  land. 
Meantime  I  had  run  up  the  river  toward  a 
boat  that  I  had  observed  near  the  bank. 

[117] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Jumping  in  I  soon  reached  the  spot  where 
lay  the  unconscious  form  of  Agatha  Second. 
All  this  time  I  was  dimly  aware  of  the  fact 
that  Agatha  Third  had  never  stopped  scream- 
ing since  the  beginning  of  the  excitement, 
and  was  now  running  up  and  down  on  the 
opposite  bank  sobbing  and  wringing  her 
hands.  When  I  reached  Wilfred  he  was  anx- 
iously bending  over  the  girl,  but  apparently 
without  the  slightest  idea  what  to  do. 

I  immediately  fell  to  chafing  her  hands  and 
resorting  to  the  other  well-known  expedients 
for  reviving  the  drowned,  and  to  enable  her 
to  breathe  more  freely  I  removed  the  tight- 
fitting  dickey  of  her  sailor-suit.  It  was  not 
long  before  she  began  to  regain  consciousness, 
and  it  was  at  this  moment  that  I  made  a  most 
amazing  discovery,  for  around  the  neck  of 
the  girl  I  saw  a  little  silver  chain,  and  on  it 

[118] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

was  strung  a  heavy  gold  ring  set  with  a  large 
cross  of  old-fashioned  emeralds. 

I  called  to  Vincent,  and  as  I  pointed  at  the 
magnificent  and  telltale  piece  of  jewelry  we 
both  gazed  at  it,  speechless  with  surprise  at 
discovering  in  such  a  manner  the  secret  of 
the  Honorable  Agatha's  identity.  Before  she 
had  quite  regained  her  consciousness  I  read- 
justed her  dickey,  and  when  she  was  able  to 
stand  we  wrapped  her  in  our  coats  and  carried 
her  to  the  boat.  There  wasn't  room  in  it 
for  more  than  two,  so  I  made  Vincent  get 
in  with  her  and  row  back  to  the  castle.  So 
they  left  us,  and  Agatha  Third  and  I,  too 
thoroughly  upset  by  the  accident  to  wish 
to  carry  through  our  picnic,  followed  them 
back,  walking  one  on  each  side  of  the  stream 
until  we  reached  the  bridge,  where  we  joined 
forces. 

[119] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

As  we  returned  I  did  a  great  deal  of  thinking. 
So  it  was  Agatha  Second,  after  all,  who  was 
the  real  Honorable  Agatha.  For  certainly  her 
possession  of  the  Wyckhoff  ring,  mentioned 
in  the  will,  was  proof  positive.  Now  that  I 
thought  of  it,  the  suspicious  circumstance  of 
Agatha  Third's  seemingly  involuntary  rising 
when  Vincent  toasted  the  Honorable  Agatha, 
admitted  of  many  explanations.  At  any  rate, 
whatever  her  reason  for  her  action,  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Wyckhoff  ring  on  the  neck  of 
Agatha  Second  had  proved  to  me  the  falsity 
of  that  other  clew  and  the  identity  of  our  fair 
but  mysterious  hostess. 

The  next  morning  when  she  came  down  to 
breakfast  I  inquired  with  great  concern  as  to 
the  effects  of  the  accident  of  the  day  previous. 
She  replied  most  kindly  that  she  felt  very 
nearly  as  well  as  ever  and  thanked  me 

[120] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

earnestly  for  my  share  in  her  rescue.  In  fact 
her  gratitude  was  so  profuse  as  to  make  me 
uncomfortable,  and  I  protested  volubly  that 
what  I  had  done  was  nothing.  Nevertheless, 
from  that  day  on  Agatha  Second  clung  to 
me  in  a  manner  that  was  almost  touching. 
Vincent,  to  my  surprise,  instead  of  taking 
advantage  of  his  part  as  hero,  seemed  rather 
anxious  to  avoid  the  girl,  whereas,  before  our 
mutual  discovery,  he  had  seemed  to  be  quite 
taken  with  her.  Although  his  conduct  was  a 
puzzle  to  me,  yet  I  could  only  rejoice  that  it 
was  so,  for  it  left  the  field  absolutely  free  to 
me,  and  I  felt  as  each  day  passed  that  now, 
indeed,  I  was  hotter  on  the  trail  of  that  twenty 
millions  than  I  had  yet  been. 

It  was  the  first  Sunday  after  the  accident 
and  the  fourth  of  our  stay.  We  had  break- 
fasted at  eight  and  were  sitting  around 

[121] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

aimlessly  waiting  until  it  was  time  to  go  to 
church. 

When  it  was  finally  time  to  get  ready  my 
head  ached  from  the  sun,  for  I  had  been 
sitting  without  my  hat,  and  I  decided  that  I 
would  not  go  that  morning,  though  there 
was  a  flattering  chorus  of  protests  when  I 
made  this  announcement. 

"  /  shall  go,"  said  Vincent  positively,  just 
as  if  anyone  had  disputed  it.  "I  always  go, 
don't  I,  Miss  Marsh? "  appealing  to  the 
secretary,  who  was  present,  but  who,  of 
course,  had  been  rather  left  out  of  the 
conversation. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  smiling  at  him  faintly. 
"You  always  do  —  ever  since  we've  known 
you,  that  is.  You're  a  saint,  Lord  Wilfred." 
But  she  laughed  as  she  said  it,  and  Vincent, 
for  no  reason  at  all,  looked  pleased. 

[122] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Then  the  girls  all  went  into  the  house  to 
change  their  frocks  for  church,  and  Vincent, 
too,  had  to  go  and  get  himself  rigged  out  in 
all  the  swellness  of  his  Bond  Street  afternoon 
things. 

"Are  you  going  to  ride  or  walk?  "  I  asked 
him  as  he  came  downstairs  ahead  of  the  young 
ladies. 

"  Walk,"  he  said.  "  It 's  such  a  ripping  day 
the  girls  thought  they  'd  like  it.  The  phaeton 
is  coming  for  us  after  church.  What's  the 
matter  with  you?  We  shall  miss  you." 

"  Oh,  just  a  bit  off  my  feed  this  morning. 
But,  Vincent,  my  boy,  do  you  realize  that 
you're  going  to  church  all  alone  by  yourself 
with  six  girls,  the  prettiest  in  England?" 

"  Seven,"  corrected  Vincent,  unmoved. 
"  The  secretary  is  going  with  us  this 
morning." 

[123] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  shook  my  head  at  him  admiringly. 
"You're  a  wonderful  fellow,"  I  told  him; 
"  I  could  n't  manage  seven  of  them  at  once 
to  save  my  skin.  It  keeps  me  busy  enough 
when  I  take  'em  one  at  a  time." 

At  this  moment  the  girls  trooped  down- 
stairs. They  had  their  prettiest  gowns  on 
and  were  fully  aware  of  the  admiration  in 
the  eyes  of  Vincent  and  myself.  And  that 
admiration  was  perfectly  excusable,  for  the 
six  Agathas  were  looking  unusually  lovely  in 
their  thin  flowered  frocks,  big  white  hats,  and 
the  dainty  parasols  to  match  the  wide  sashes, 
and  I  should  have  been  hard  put  to  it  to  say 
which  was  .the  handsomest.  But  as  they  filed 
out  of  the  big  door  I  saw  Vincent  look  longest 
at  the  secretaiy,  who  walked  a  little  behind 
the  others,  her  plain,  dark  blue  silk  gown  and 
little  rough  straw  hat  with  the  pink  roses 

[124] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

being  a  conspicuous  contrast  to  the  frills  and 
furbelows  of  the  six  Agathas.  I  thought  I  had 
never  seen  her  look  so  well,  and  she  passed 
us  men  without  so  much  as  glancing  in  our 
direction,  though  Vincent's  gaze,  I  thought, 
was  a  trifle  rude. 

They  had  been  gone  some  fifteen  minutes 
when  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  might  do  my 
head  good  to  go  out  and  get  some  fresh  air. 
Besides  which  I  had  begun  to  regret  that  I  had 
permitted  Vincent  to  go  to  church  the  only 
esquire  of  such  a  galaxy  of  beauty.  So  I  put 
on  my  hat  and  strolled  out  over  the  lawn  and 
down  the  long  drive,  and  before  I  knew  it  I 
had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  hilly  road  and 
had  set  out  over  the  fields.  The  church  party 
had  gone  by  way  of  the  path  over  the  fields, 
for  that  was  a  shorter  route  than  the  main 
road. 

[125] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

As  I  walked  quickly  along  the  well-beaten 
path  between  the  thickets  I  stopped  suddenly 
and  stooped  to  pick  up  a  small  dust-covered 
object  which  proved  to  be  a  prayer-book. 
"One  of  those  careless  girls  has  dropped  it," 
I  said  to  myself,  for  they  had  all  carried 
them.  Opening  it  to  find  the  owner's  name, 
I  was  much  agitated  to  read  on  the  flyleaf 
this  inscription :  "To  my  daughter  Agatha, 
from  her  father,  Fletcher  Boyd,"  and  the 
date,  1900.  It  was,  then,  a  gift  which  Fletcher 
Boyd  had  made  to  his  daughter  only  two 
years  before  his  death. 

I  was  wild  with  excitement  in  a  minute.  I 
would  keep  the  book,  and  some  time  when 
all  the  girls  were  gathered  together  I  would 
announce  that  I  had  it  in  my  possession  and 
see  if  one  of  them  did  not  betray  herself  by 
asking  me  for  it.  But  Fate  decreed  that  I 

[126] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

should  make  my  test  of  the  prayer-book  more 
speedily,  for  I  spied  in  the  distance  the  white 
figure  of  a  girl  hastening  back.  The  path  was 
dusty  and  the  sun  was  shining  right  in  her 
face,  so  I  trusted  she  had  not  seen  me,  and, 
putting  the  little  volume  down  just  where 
I  had  found  it,  I  jumped  behind  the  bushes. 
The  owner  of  the  book  was  looking  for  her 
property.  On  she  came,  running  slowly  and 
glancing  eagerly  from  side  to  side  of  the 
pathway.  As  she  came  opposite  me  she 
stopped  and  snatched  up  the  book,  and  when 
she  had  run  back  again  the  conviction  that 
the  Honorable  Agatha  was  no  other  than 
Agatha  Fourth  was  forced  in  upon  me. 

So  roused  was  I  by  this  event  that  I  turned 
my  steps  homeward,  at  once.  Suspicion  had 
now  fallen  on  every  one  of  the  six  Agathas, 
but  this  —  this  was  the  most  convincing  of 

[127] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

proofs!  That  night  I  could  hardly  wait  for 
the  end  of  the  evening,  so  that  I  could  drag 
Vincent  into  my  room  and  disclose  to  him 
my  final  and  greatest  discovery.  I  was  so 
full  of  excitement  over  it,  besides  feeling  a 
certain  pride  in  my  wit  and  sagacity  which 
had  led  to  the  discovery  of  so  many  impor- 
tant clews,  that  I  was  rather  disappointed 
when  Vincent  received  my  disclosure  with 
indifference." 

"  At  it  again,  Arch,"  he  said  rather  gloomily 
as  he  sat  cross-legged  before  my  fire  in  ex- 
treme deshabille  and  smoking  his  vile  pipe. 
"  What  is  the  use?  I  should  think  you  'd  get 
tired  of  pursuing  the  elusive  gold.  I  admire 
your  patience,  my  boy,  but  I  don't  take  any 
more  stock  in  this  '  clew '  than  I  did  in  your 
others.  When  you  think  that  you  have  now 
fastened  suspicion  upon  each  one  of  the  six 

[128] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

fair  ladies  who  have  been  christened  Agatha 
I  marvel  at  the  sanguine  temperament  which 
permits  you  to  place  so  much  importance  on 
this  last  find  of  yours."  He  stopped,  and  I 
answered  him  rather  sarcastically,  as  I  did  n't 
like  the  gentle  ridicule  of  his  tone  or  his  lack 
of  enthusiasm. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  I  said,  "  that  considering 
how  you've  spent  your  time,  my  dear  boy, 
you  are  a  very  poor  person  to  look  down 
upon  my  efforts  to  turn  this  adventure  of 
ours  to  some  account.  The  fact  that  I  have 
kept  my  eyes  open  and  used  those  faculties 
of  penetration  and  observation  of  which  I 
am  the  natural  possessor  to  discover  a  piece 
of  information  which  might  prove  of  great 
value,  not  only  to  myself  but  also  to  you 
—  this  fact,  I  say,  Vincent,  ought  hardly  to 
bring  upon  me  your  derision  as  well  as  your 

[129] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

lack  of  sympathy."  I  don't  mind  admitting 
that  I  really  felt  hurt,  and  Vincent  saw  that 
I  did. 

He  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  and 
looked  at  me  with  those  big,  truthful  eyes  of 
his  so  penitently  that  I  smiled  inwardly ;  then 
he  gathered  up  his  long  limbs  from  my  hearth- 
rug and  came  and  ensconced  himself  at  my 
feet  as  I  sat  in  my  easy-chair. 

"Well  there,  then,"  he  said,  patting  my 
hand  as  if  I'd  been  an  old  woman  or  a  small 
child.  "Poor  old  Arch'bald,  did  I  make  it 
cross!  Well,  it  was  a  shame!  '  And  he 
smiled  at  me  with  such  a  mixture  of  contrition 
and  fun  that  I  was  obliged  after  a  short 
struggle  to  laugh  unconstrainedly. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  will  begin  operations 
according  to  your  latest  clew  to-morrow?  "  he 
laughed  at  me. 

[130] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  did  not  answer  him,  and  silence  fell  upon 
us.  I  was  pondering  over  the  problem  and 
did  not  look  at  Vincent  for  a  long  while,  but 
when  I  did  I  saw  that  his  face  wore  a  troubled, 
hopeless  look,  and  that  his  whole  attitude 
indicated  profound  dejection. 

"Vincent,"  I  said,  leaning  over  him, 
"what's  the  trouble?  "  I  had  been  noticing 
of  late  that  he  had  been  subject  to  fits  of 
melancholy  altogether  out  of  keeping  with  his 
character,  and  I  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  had  some  trouble  on  his  mind.  I 
wanted  to  know  what  it  was,  so  that  I  could 
help  him.  When  I  spoke  he  turned  his  head 
slowly  and  looked  at  me  a  moment  solemnly, 
then  smiled  faintly,  the  very  ghost  of  that 
splendid,  boyish  smile  of  his,  so  that  it  went 
to  my  heart. 

"Oh,  Arch,"  he  burst  out,  "everything's 
[131] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

wrong !     But  it 's  not  my  fault ;  how  could  I 
help  loving  her?  " 

I  was  amazed.  What  was  the  boy  talking 
about,  and  who  was  it  that  he  loved! 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  went  on;  "I  met  her  four 
miles  from  town  carrying  an  old  beggar- 
woman's  bundle  because  the  poor  old  thing 
had  hurt  her  foot.  And  when  I  drew  up  the 
dogcart  and  asked  her  to  get  in  and  take 
the  bundle  too,  she  shook  her  head,  and,  by 
Jove,  she  wouldn't  get  in  till  I  let  the  old 
beggar-woman  get  in,  too ! '  Vincent  turned 
to  me  positively  radiant.  "Ah,  Terhune!' 
he  cried,  "you  don't  know  what  it  is.  I 
love  her  so!  r 

And  as  he  stood  there,  his  face  transfigured, 
I  grasped  in  a  moment  the  meaning  of  the 
whole  thing  and  the  understanding  struck 
like  a  blow  at  my  heart  and  I  knew  how  dear 

[132] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

the  welfare  of  this  boy  was  to  me.  Somehow, 
Vincent  represents  to  me  the  things  I  might 
have  been,  and  am  not,  the  things  I  might  have 
won,  and  have  lost;  he  represents  the  first 
flush  of  my  own  youth.  And  now  that  I 
had  wasted  those  opportunities  to  lead  the 
selfish  existence  of  the  average  bachelor,  I 
found  a  certain  joy  in  again  experiencing 
those  first  throbs  of  living  that  had  been 
mine,  in  the  person  and  life  of  young  Vincent. 

As  he  stood  before  me,  glowing  with  feeling, 
I  felt  that  it  was  for  me  to  wipe  that  look 
from  his  face,  cruel  as  it  seemed,  and  my 
anger  at  the  woman  who  had  so  deceived  the 
boy  by  withholding  from  him  the  knowledge 
that  she  was  married  helped  me  to  do  the 
deed. 

"Vincent,"  I  said  slowly,  "do  you  mean 
—  do  I  gather  from  your  ravings  that  you 

[133] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

honestly  —  er  —  care  for  this  person ! ' :  I  had 
risen  to  my  feet,  and  as  I  spoke  Vincent's 
whole  expression  changed  in  a  flash. 

"Your  inference  is  perfectly  correct,"  he 
said.  His  face  went  white  and  there  was  war  in 
his  tone,  for  he  perceived  that  I  meant  trouble. 

The  necessity  of  saving  the  boy  I  loved  from 
the  consequences  of  his  own  folly  took  pos- 
session of  me,  and  I  was  full  of  rage  at  Vincent 
and  at  that  conscienceless  woman  in  the  gray 
gown  who  had  entrapped  him. 

"  You  fool,"  I  said,  putting  my  face  close  to 
his  square,  cleft  chin,  "  why  do  you  throw 
away  your  chance  in  life  like  that!  What 
do  you  want  to  let  yourself  get  entangled 
with  an  adventuress  for?  Don't  you  know 
the  woman's  married?  She  confessed  to 
having  one  husband ;  she  may  have  a  dozen, 
for  all  I  know!" 

[134] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

The  inevitable  happened,  for  Vincent,  with 
a  half -articulate  cry  like  a  wild  animal,  raised 
his  clenched  fist  and  struck  at  me.  Fortunately 
for  us  both,  he  struck  wildly  in  his  anger  and 
I  caught  the  blow  on  my  arm. 

"You  liar!"  he  shouted,  "oh,  you  liar!" 
and  in  a  rage  that  shook  him  from  head  to 
foot  he  rushed  from  the  room  and  slammed 
the  door. 

I  was  sick  at  heart  as  I  stood  staring  after 
him  to  think  that  matters  had  come  to  such 
a  pass  between  Vincent  and  myself.  Although 
no  man  can  hear  himself  called  a  liar,  even  by 
his  best  friend,  without  resenting  it,  still, 
when  the  first  flash  of  my  wrath  had  passed, 
I  forgave  him  for  it,  for  I  knew  that  the  heat 
of  his  passion  would  permit  no  satisfaction  but 
violence,  and,  of  course,  if  he  really  cared  for 
the  woman,  the  words  I  had  used  were  about 

[135] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

the  most  insulting  possible.  However,  I  had 
done  what  seemed  to  be  my  duty,  and  I  only 
reproached  myself  bitterly  for  not  having  told 
him  of  the  secretary's  marriage  before  his 
unhappy  infatuation  had  gained  such  head- 
way. But  he  had  disarmed  my  first  suspicions 
and  I  had  never  dreamed  that  anything  so 
serious  was  on  foot.  That  was  a  restless  night 
for  me  and  it  was  dawn  before  I  fell  into  a 
light  sleep. 


[  136  ] 


Chapter 
Six 


CHAPTER    SIX 

f  "W"  THEN  we  met  at  breakfast  the  next 
§/  M/  morning  there  were  no  signs  of  the 
breach  between  Vincent  and  myself 
except  his  unusual  pallor,  which  suggested  to 
me  that  he,  too,  had  spent  a  sleepless  night. 

The  girls  were  inclined  to  joke  at  our  solemn 
faces,  but  so  long  as  the  meal  passed  off  with- 
out disclosing  that  something  was  amiss  be- 
tween us  I  did  not  care.  All  day  we  saw 
nothing  of  each  other,  but  this  was  not  un- 
usual, as  we  always  pursued  different  courses. 
I  spent  most  of  my  time  with  Agatha  Fourth, 
the  only  Honorable,  whom  I  found  to  be  a 
really  delightful  girl  and  certainly  the  pos- 
sessor of  remarkable  musical  talent. 

[139] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

In  the  evening  the  others  went  out  to  row 
on  the  lake,  and  left  Agatha  Fourth  alone 
with  me.  She  sat  at  the  piano  and  played 
everything  she  could  think  of,  while  I  lay  on 
a  broad  divan  where  I  could  watch  her  and 
listen  to  the  soft  music. 

I  suppose  that  my  bad  night  had  something 
to  do  with  the  fact  that  I  was  boor  enough  to 
fall  asleep  while  the  beautiful  Agatha  Fourth 
was  playing  for  me.  Certainly  I  know  that  I 
was  guilty  of  that  appalling  rudeness,  for  I  was 
suddenly  brought  to  a  state  of  consciousness 
by  the  sound  of  a  clock  striking.  I  counted 
the  strokes  mechanically  —  there  were  twelve. 
I  must  have  slept  for  hours,  and,  sure  enough, 
the  room  was  dark  except  for  the  firelight, 
and  my  slighted  hostess  was  gone  from  the 
piano-stool.  As  I  was  about  to  rise  I  heard 
voices,  and,  turning,  I  saw  on  the  other  side 

[140] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

of  the  piano  a  man  and  a  girl.  The  man  was 
Vincent,  of  course,  and  I  thought,  as  I  looked 
at  him  sitting  full  in  the  bright  firelight,  that 
he  had  never  looked  so  handsome.  His  even- 
ing dress  showed  off  his  superb  athletic  form 
to  the  best  advantage,  and  his  face  was  fresh 
and  strong,  with  the  bronze  of  his  tan  extend- 
ing to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  which  was  cut 
close  to  conceal  a  wave  in  the  gold  of  it.  It 
occurred  to  me  at  once  that  his  face  had  lost 
much  of  its  boyishness  and  he  looked  every 
inch  a  man.  But  it  took  me  some  time  to 
realize  that  the  girl  who  sat  with  him  was 
none  other  than  the  secretary. 

At  first  I  could  not  tell  what  it  was  that 
had  so  changed  her,  whether  it  was  her  shim- 
mering white  evening  gown,  or  the  gleaming 
bracelets,  until  at  last  it  came  to  me  in  a  flash 
that  it  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

glory  of  her  hair  that  had  wrought  the  trans- 
formation. I  had  never  seen  the  secretary 
with  her  hair  done  any  way  but  plainly  and 
unbecomingly,  but  now  it  was  dressed  as  I 
knew  it  should  have  been  dressed  long  ago. 
She  wore  it  low  on  her  long,  slender  neck, 
rolled  at  the  sides  and  rippling  loosely  back 
from  her  forehead,  in  shining  waves  and  little 
wilful  rings  held  in  place  with  big  shell 
combs. 

And  when  at  length  it  dawned  upon  me  that 
it  was  really  the  secretary  who  was  Vincent's 
companion,  so  breathless  was  I  with  amaze 
that  at  first  I  hardly  realized  that  I  could  hear 
perfectly  what  they  were  saying.  And  when 
I  did  realize  it,  I  wanted  to  rise  and  let  them 
know  that  I  was  there,  but  on  second  thought 
I  saw  that  I  must  have  been  there  for  so  long 
that  they  would  never  believe  that  I  had 

]  i 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

not  heard  the  whole  of  their  conversation. 
Furthermore,  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  might 
be  well  if  I  stayed  to  hear  what  Miss  Marsh 
had  to  say  for  herself. 

"  And  so  I  calmly  took  the  dress  and  put  it 
on,  just  to  amuse  myself,"  I  heard  the  secre- 
tary saying,  "  and  did  my  hair  the  way  the 
others  do  theirs,  you  know.  And  it  was  so 
late  I  thought  no  one  would  find  me  here." 

"And  if  I  hadn't  left  my  pipe  on  the  table 
no  one  would  have  found  you,  and  I  —  think 
what  I  should  have  missed !  "  Vincent's  voice 
was  eloquent. 

"  Of  course,  it  was  very  vain  of  me,  very 
vain,"  she  went  on;  "  but  you  know  when  a 
girl  has  to  earn  her  own  living  she  gets  a  little 
tired  of  all  work  and  no  play,  and  sometimes 
the  impulse  to  pretend  she  's  fortunate  and 
happy  and — and  pretty" — the  secretary 

[143] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

flushed  under  Vincent's  gaze  as  she  faltered 
the  last  word,  and  hurried  on  —  "  and  like  the 
others  —  is  so  strong  that  it  tempts  her  to 
deck  herself  out  in  borrowed  plumes  and 
sit  in  an  empty  drawing-room  at  twelve 
o'clock  at  night,  enjoying  the  illusion  for  a 
brief  hour." 

"  No,"  said  Vincent  softly,  "  I  don't  think 
it  was  vain ;  I  think  it  was  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world,  and  — and  I  'm  glad  you 
did  it,"  he  ended  rather  lamely. 

The  secretary  laughed,  and  I  wondered 
what  quality  there  was  about  the  sound  that 
made  Vincent  rave  over  it.  Then,  as  his  eyes 
wandered  to  her  hair,  he  sighed. 

"Why  sighest  thou,  oh,  furnace?"  she 
smiled  at  him. 

"  I  was  just  thinking  about  something." 

"About  what  I" 

[144] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"You  don't  want  to  hear?  " 

"Ah!  But  I  do!" 

"  All  right,  then."  He  turned  on  her 
swiftly.  "I  was  just  looking,"  he  said,  "at 
your  hair.  I  '11  bet  the  angels  have  halos 
like  that." 

The  secretary  blushed.  "  It 's  horrid  hair," 
she  said,  giving  it  a  vindictive  little  pull  that 
only  brought  it  to  a  more  charming  disarray. 
"  I  hate  the  color  of  it.  Why,  when  I  was  a 
child  I  never  could  bear  to  have  the  heroines 
of  the  fairy-tales  have  anything  but  golden 
hair,  and  I  used  to  think  mine  was  gold,  and 
one  day  when  I  said  so  and  was  told,  *  No, 
your  hair  is  red,  not  gold,'  I  cried  for  days 
afterward." 

"  You  poor  little  thing!  "  he  said,  his  face 
as  full  of  sympathy  as  if  those  tears  had 
just  been  shed.  And  for  the  life  of  her  the 

[145] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

secretary  couldn't  help  her  lip  trembling, 
though  she  knew  it  was  absurd  and  was  very 
much  ashamed  of  herself.  Vincent  broke  the 
silence  first.  "  We  might  do  a  little  on  the 
'Dead  Barons  of  Wyckhoff,'  "  he  suggested. 
It  was  evident  that  our  affair  of  last  night 
was  uppermost  in  his  mind,  for  his  air  was 
very  abstracted. 

"  No,  thank  you,  my  Lord.  This  is  my 
evening  off.  I  am  no  longer  Miss  Marsh, 
the  secretary,  but  Miss  Marsh,  the  lady  of 
leisure." 

"  I  did  n't  think  of  it  as  work,  and  I  thought 
perhaps  you  didn't,  either,  when  we  did  it 
together." 

"Little  boys  shouldn't  think;  it's  a  bad 
habit,"  she  said  severely ;  "  besides,  you  talk 
like  '  I '  in  the  '  Dolly  Dialogues.' " 

At  this  Vincent's  face  grew  desperate,  and 
[146] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  saw  that  she  had  goaded  him  into  asking  her 
the  question  that  had  been  on  his  mind  all 
day,  and  I  nearly  fell  off  the  sofa  in  my  efforts 
to  hear  without  being  seen. 

"Do  I?"  he  said.  "Well,  that's  because 
I  Ve  something  I  Ve  been  wanting  to  ask  you 
all  day  long.  It 's  something  very  personal, 
and,  of  course,  I  Ve  no  right  —  that  is,  you 
won't  think  so,"  the  boy  was  stumbling  piti- 
fully, "  but  I  Ve  got  to  know ;  it 's  so  hard  to 
believe  that  you  would  do  it  deliberately.  Is 
it  true? " 

"  Lord  Wilfred,"  said  the  girl,  straightening 
up,  "  you  must  speak  more  clearly  if  you  want 
me  to  understand  what  you  have  been  saying." 

"It's  this,"  said  Lord  Wilfred,  facing  her 
abruptly  and  terribly  in  earnest.  "  Someone 
told  me  last  night  that  you  were  a  married 
woman.  Is  it  true? ' 

[147] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

I  could  not  see  the  face  of  the  secretary,  but 
I  could  not  help  perceiving  the  ring  of  truth 
in  her  voice. 

"I'm  not  married,"  she  said  simply.  "I 
told  Mr.  Terhune  so  because  I  wanted  to 
disabuse  him  of  a  false  impression  he  was 
laboring  under.  But  what  is  it  to  you?  ' 

"  This,"  said  Wilfred,  and  he  leaned  toward 
her  suddenly  and  grasped  her  hands  and  put 
his  face  within  an  inch  of  hers  —  I  could  see 
by  the  firelight  its  look  of  determination  and 
ineffable  relief.  The  secretary  gave  a  little 
cry  and  drew  back.  I  conjectured  that  Wilfred 
was  on  the  point  of  making  an  irretrievable 
ass  of  himself,  so  I  interrupted  proceedings 
by  knocking  a  book  off  the  sofa  and  rising 
to  my  feet.  At  the  first  sound  of  the  book 
falling  the  two  had  jumped  to  their  feet  and 
stood,  the  girl  shrinking  close  to  Wilfred, 

[148] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

and  Wilfred  with  his  arm  thrown  around 
her. 

"Who  goes  there?  "  he  said  sternly,  as  he 
discovered  my  figure  in  the  gloom,  and  "  Ah! 
—  it's  you,  Terhune,"  as  I  came  into  the 
circle  of  light,  in  a  tone  I  hope  I  may  never 
hear  from  him  again. 

As  the  secretary  saw  who  it  was  she  sprang 
away  and  was  gone  from  the  room  in  a 
second. 

"  Well,"  he  said  with  a  sneer,  as  the  cur- 
tains closed  behind  her,  "  eavesdropper,  med- 
dling as  usual.  What  can  I  do  for  you?  " 

I  sat  down  on  the  stool.  "  Sit  down,' '  I  said 
with  quiet  authority,  "  and  we  '11  talk  it  over." 
He  sat  down.  In  moments  like  this  he  for- 
gets his  independence  and  remembers  that  at 
one  time  he  used  to  obey  me  habitually.  I 
wanted  to  comfort  him,  but  I  knew  my  duty 

[149J 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

better.  "Vincent,"  I  said  appealingly,  "don't 
you  see  that  it  won't  do?  She  's  no  match 
for  you  —  a  girl  with  no  family  and  no  money, 
and  of  her  station  in  life.  Grive  it  up,  I 
implore  you.  Think  of  your  father.  There 
has  never  been  a  mesalliance  in  the  family; 
it  would  break  his  heart." 

Vincent  raised  his  head.  "  Mrs.  Armistead 
says  her  family  is  perfectly  respectable,"  he 
said.  "  I  asked  her." 

"  Perfectly  respectable !  '  I  repeated  con- 
temptuously. "  Think  of  a  Vincent  marrying 
a  girl  who  has  nothing  in  her  favor  but  the  fact 
that  her  family  was  '  perfectly  respectable !  ' 

Vincent  sighed  pathetically  and  I  delivered 
one  more  blow.  "Think,"  I  said;  "your 
brother  Edmund  is  over  forty,  unmarried, 
and  a  sufferer  from  rheumatism  of  the  heart, 
as  you  know.  Suppose  he  should  die  — 

[150] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

wouldn't  you  make  a  more  creditable  heir 
to  the  title  if  you  hadn't  tied  yourself  up 
to  a  wife  of  obscure  origin  —  a  penniless 
American  girl?  And  if  you  don't  come  into 
the  title  you  're  only  a  younger  son,  and  you 
know  yourself  your  propensity  for  getting 
into  debt,  and  the  Foreign  Office  for  a  boy 
of  your  age  is  not  a  paying  business.  No, 
Vincent,  you're  not  cut  out  for  making 
money,  and  it's  certain  you  can't  depend 
on  your  father  forever.  Can't  you  see  how 
rash  and  foolish  you  are  to  consider  such  a 
thing!  " 

I  leaned  over  and  put  my  hand  on  Vincent's 
shoulder.  He  turned  his  head,  and  when  I 
felt  his  smooth  cheek  against  my  hand  I  knew 
that  the  battle  was  won. 

"  I  'm  awful  sorry,  Arch,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  was  such  a  beast  last  night.  I  '11  never 

[151] 


T  H  K     R  K  A  L     A  G  A  T  H  A 

forgive  myself  for  trying  to  strike  you.  Only, 
you  see,  I  lost  my  head,  and  I  didn't  know 
quite  what  I  was  doing."  "Of  course,"  I 
said,  "  I  understand  —  But  he  would  not 
let  me  stem  the  tide  of  his  remorse.  "  And 
then,  you  know,  what  you  said  was  very 
hard  to  bear,  and  you  see,  after  all,  it  wasn't 
true.  She  told  me  it  wasn't.  Did  you  hear 
her!  " 

"  Yes,"  I  assented,  "  and  I  believe  she  told 
you  the  truth." 

"Of  course;  but  then  you're  always  right, 
Archibald,  always  right.  When  I  go  away 
from  here  and  never  see  her  any  more  "  —  his 
lips  quivered  uncontrollably  —  "I  may  be  able 
to  forget  her." 

"  Of  course  you  will,"  I  assured  him 
cheerily,  though  there  was  a  lump  in  my 
throat.  "  Men  have  died,  but  not  for  love. 

[IS*] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Many  have  been  as  hard  hit  as  you  and  have 
recovered." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  agreed  my  patient,  but  without 
enthusiasm ;  but  at  any  rate  I  had  gained  my 
point,  and  Vincent  had  agreed  with  me  that 
marriage  with  the  secretary  was  too  rash  and 
foolish  for  him  to  contemplate. 

"By-the-by,  Arch,"  he  said  carelessly,  as 
we  still  sat  before  the  fire  trying  to  make 
believe  that  the  incident  of  the  secretary  was 
closed,  "  I  have  something  to  tell  you.  The 
secretary  told  me  outright  which  one  of  the 
six  girls  really  is  the  daughter  of  Fletcher 
Boyd." 

I  looked  at  him  in  utter  astonishment. 
"  What !  "  I  said  excitedly ;  "  do  you  mean  to 
say  she  deliberately  gave  away  the  secret? 
Which  one  is  ft,  for  Heaven's  sake?  And 
why  did  she  do  it? " 

[153] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

"  It 's  Agatha  Sixth.  You  were  right  all 
along.  As  for  the  reason,  I  don't  know  what 
she  did  it  for,  unless  —  unless  —  "  he  hesi- 
tated. "  She  's  such  an  honorable  little  thing 
I  think  she  felt  that  the  marriage  would  dis- 
please my  family,  so  she  wanted  to  turn  me 
from  what  she  saw  was  coming  and  used  the 
disclosure  of  the  Honorable  Agatha's  identity 
for  bait.  Come  on  to  bed,"  he  added  with  a 
little  return  of  his  old  spirit;  "you'd  better 
get  rested  for  your  last  try  for  the  twenty 
millions.  If  you  make  up  for  past  neglect 
you  ought  to  win  Agatha  Sixth  hands  down." 

"  Then  you  don't  mean  to  try?  " 

His  face  clouded  again.  "  I  don't  mean  to 
try,"  he  said,  and  we  went  up  to  our  rooms 
in  silence. 

And  so  we  came  to  the  last  four  days  of  our 
stay  at  Castle  Wyckhoff,  and  I  began  subtly 

[154] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

and  by  degrees  to  win  back  my  former  place 
in  the  regard  of  Agatha  Sixth,  and  with  every 
inch  of  ground  I  gained  in  my  pursuit  of  the 
Honorable  Agatha  I  thought  of  Vincent  with 
a  fresh  pity. 

The  evening  before  the  last  day  of  our  stay 
we  all  spent  together  in  the  music-room.  We 
were  very  jolly,  and  yet  underneath  it  all  I 
think  the  girls  were  a  little  saddened  by  our 
approaching  departure,  and  Wilfred  and  I  felt 
a  certain  regret  that  the  end  of  our  delight- 
ful visit  had  come,  though  of  course  I  had 
fully  determined  to  propose  to  Agatha  Sixth 
on  the  morrow.  I  was  rather  surprised  there- 
fore when  Vincent  suddenly  complained  of 
headache  and,  excusing  himself,  went  up  to 
his  room.  When  I  went  up  to  my  own 
room  I  rapped  on  his  door,  but  he  made  no 
answer  and  I  concluded  that  he  must  be 

[155] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

asleep.  The  next  morning,  much,  to  my 
astonishment,  he  did  not  saunter  in  and  out 
of  my  room  as  he  was  accustomed  to  do  of 
a  morning,  but  as  it  was  late  I  did  not  stop 
to  investigate.  But  when  ten  o'clock  came, 
and  still  no  Vincent,  I  went  up  to  his  room, 
for  I  thought  he  should  be  up  and  doing  on 
this,  his  last  day  at  Castle  Wyckhoff,  when  he 
was  to  leave  for  London  on  the  four-fifteen 
train  that  afternoon.  I  say  "he"  not  "we," 
for  I  felt  more  confident  of  my  success  with 
Agatha  Sixth  that  day  than  I  had  done  the 
evening  before,  and  although  I  had  not  yet 
had  the  opportunity  to  put  the  great  ques- 
tion, I  felt  that  it  was  very  possible  that  in 
the  guise  of  accepted  lover  I  might  not  have 
to  take  the  four-fifteen  that  afternoon. 

When  I  reached  Vincent's  room  I  knocked 
twice,  and,  receiving  no  answer,  entered,  and 

[156] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

was  somewhat  alarmed  to  find  that  he  was 
not  there,  though  his  bed  had  been  slept  in. 
Anxious,  without  knowing  why,  I  tore  down- 
stairs and  called  for  Mrs.  Armistead.  That 
good  lady  met  me  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
in  answer  to  my  summons,  with  an  air  as 
anxious  as  my  own. 

"Have  you  seen  Lord  Vincent!"  I  asked 
her. 

"  Have  you  seen  my  secretary?  "  she  replied, 
without  answering  my  question.  "  She  's  not 
in  her  room,  though  her  bed  has  been  slept 
in.  But  she  hasn't  had  her  breakfast,  and 
I  can't  find  her  anywhere." 

"  You  don't  mean  it !  "  I  ejaculated,  and  a 
sickening  fear  turned  me  cold. 

"  Perhaps  this  has  something  to  do  with 
it,"  said  Mrs.  Armistead.  "  I  found  it  on  the 
front-hall  table  underneath  the  mail-bag." 

[157] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

Her  anxiety  was  apparently  sincere,  and 
yet  somehow  it  rang  false  to  me.  With  im- 
patient fingers  I  seized  the  folded  paper  she 
drew  from  her  reticule.  It  read  as  follows : 

* '  Dear  Old  Arch :  Sorry  to  deceive  you  so, 
but  I  've  gone  and  done  it  —  that  rash,  foolish 
thing  you  told  me  not  to  do ;  at  least,  by  the 
time  you  get  this  note  the  deed  will  be  done. 
And  I  so  dreaded  your  reproaches  that  I 
never  so  much  as  asked  you  to  be  best  man. 
But  I  couldn't  help  it,  Arch,  honest  I  couldn't. 
Not  to  save  my  soul.  She  should  n't  have  had 
eyes  like  stars  and  hair  like  autumn  leaves. 
As  for  the  money,  hang  the  stuffy  old  millions, 
I  say !  Every  pound  of  it  is  so  many  glass 
beads  to  me  in  comparison  to  what  I  have 
this  day  gained.  I  wish  you  joy  of  them  and 
of  the  Honorable  Agatha.  Dear  old  boy,  for- 
give me  if  you  can  ;  and  if  you  want  to  do 
me  one  last  favor  come  down  to  the  station 
in  time  to  meet  the  eleven-seventeen  for  Lon- 
don and  hear  my  last  injunctions, 

[158] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

"  When  did  you  find  this?  "  I  gasped.  But 
I  didn't  wait  to  hear  her  reply,  for  a  glance 
at  the  hall  clock  told  me  that  it  was  five- 
minutes  of  eleven.  Bareheaded  I  rushed 
around  to  the  stables  and  fortunately  found 
Christopher  just  putting  the  mare  into  the 
dog-cart.  "  Get  in,"  I  yelled,  "  and  drive  like 
sin!" 

"  Sin ,  sir !    Where,  sir  ?  "  asked  Christopher. 

"  The  station!  "  I  cried,  jumping  up  beside 
him ;  and  we  flew  down  the  winding  drive  at 
a  pace  that  I  would  not  think  of  attempting 
in  cold  blood. 

Through  Mrs.  Armistead's  criminal  delay 
in  handing  me  the  note  many  valuable  min- 
utes had  been  wasted,  yet  I  thought  I  should 
still  be  in  time  perhaps  to  save  Vincent  from 
carrying  out  the  last  fatal  step  of  his  incred- 
ible folly.  It  might  not  be  too  late  to  part 

[159] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

them,  for  in  spite  of  what  he  had  said  in  his 
note  I  could  not  believe  that  the  worst  had 
actually  happened.  As  we  approached  the 
last  strip  of  woods  before  we  reached  the  sta- 
tion I  caught  sight  of  a  puff  of  white  smoke 
down  the  track.  A  moment  later,  when  we 
drew  up  at  the  platform,  the  great  locomotive 
thundered  into  the  station,  and  there,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  platform,  I  saw  them.  There 
was  Vincent,  clad  in  the  things  he  had  worn 
on  the  train  when  we  had  first  come  through 
the  fields  of  Wye,  and  with  him  was  a  remark- 
ably pretty  girl  with  beautiful  wavy  red  hair, 
in  a  gray  tailor  suit  and  a  smart  black  hat. 
Of  course  it  was  the  secretary. 

I  waved  at  them  frantically  and  they  waved 
in  return,  and  I  could  see  Vincent  smiling 
happily  at  me  as  they  entered  one  of  the 
carriages.  As  I  came  up  with  their  carriage 

[160] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Vincent  opened  the  window  wide  and  thrust 
his  head  out.  "  Oh,  Vincent !  '  was  all  I 
said;  "am  I  too  late!" 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  said  genially ;  "  you  're  just 
in  time  to  congratulate  me.  But  what  I 
wanted  of  you,  Arch"  —  and  he  leaned  toward 
me  and  lowered  his  voice  —  "was  to  ask  you 
to  break  it  to  my  father." 

"  Then  it's  true!  "  I  said,  not  quite  able  to 
believe  it,  even  yet. 

"Yes,  it 's  true,"  he  said  aloud,  and  with  a 
radiant  smile  he  drew  back  a  little  so  that  I 
could  see  the  erstwhile  Miss  Marsh.  "It's 
true  that  I've  married  the  secretary." 

"  But  it 's  not"  said  that  lady,  much  to  my 
surprise  and  thrusting  out  her  pretty  head. 
"It's  not  true  a  bit.  He  hasn't  married 
the  secretary  at  all.  I  was  only  '  playing ' 
secretary.  He's  married  no  one  but  the 

[161] 


THE     REAL    AGATHA 

Honorable  Agatha,  the  first,  last,  and  only 
Honorable !  ' 

And  for  proof  of  her  astonishing  words  she 
snatched  off  her  glove  and  displayed  to  my 
marvelling  gaze  the  big  emerald  cross  of  the 
Wyckhoff  ring,  winking  in  the  sunshine. 

At  this  moment  the  train  began  to  move, 
and  I  was  filled  with  a  sudden  and  justifiable 
rage  that  Vincent  should  have  so  deceived 
me.  To  think  that  he  had  been  in  the  secret 
all  the  time  and  had  helped  to  make  a  fool  of 
me !  But  one  look  at  his  face  proved  to  me 
that  I  had  done  him  an  injustice.  He  was  as 
stricken  with  amazement  as  I  was,  and  I  knew 
that  then,  and  not  until  then,  had  he  become 
acquainted  with  the  truth.  Gathering  my 
wits  quickly,  for  the  train  was  moving  faster, 
I  ran  after  their  carriage  till  I  caught  up  with 
the  window  again.  "Gk>od-by!"  I  shouted, 

[162] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

and  "Glod  bless  you!  '  And  Vincent,  reach- 
ing out  his  big  hand,  had  just  time  to  catch 
mine  in  his  strong  grasp  before  I  dropped 
back,  outstripped,  and  he  had  withdrawn  his 
radiant  face  from  my  view. 

Afterward  I  learned  many  things.  First, 
that  they  had  been  married  very  early  that 
morning,  before  the  rest  of  us  were  up,  in  the 
little  chapel  at  Wye,  with  Mrs.  Armistead, 
who  was  in  the  secret,  as  witness.  That 
explained  her  delay  in  giving  me  the  note. 
Dreading  my  interference,  they  had  not 
wished  me  to  know  until  the  whole  thing 
was  well  over  and  Mrs.  Armistead  back  at 
Castle  Wyckhoff.  Second,  that  it  had  been 
the  Honorable  Agatha's  own  idea  to  play  the 
part  of  secretary  to  her  aunt,  thus  improving 
upon  her  father's  plan,  and  making  it  still 
more  difficult  for  the  competing  suitors  to 

[163] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

discover  her  identity.  Third,  that  her  reason 
for  telling  Vincent  that  Agatha  Sixth  was 
the  real  Honorable  Agatha  was  only  to  prove 
him  once  more  and  to  the  uttermost.  And 
Vincent  had  stood  the  trial  without  faltering 
and  had  even  proved  himself  equal  to  disre- 
garding my  wishes.  Yet  I  really  think  that 
on  that  night  when  he  had  agreed  with  me 
that  it  was  best  to  give  her  up  he  meant  to  do 
so,  but  his  love  for  the  girl  proved  stronger 
than  his  love  for  gold  or  his  feeling  for  his 
friend.  And  it  was  thus  that  the  boy  won  — 
because  he  had  loved  truly  and  faithfully. 

And  I  also  learned  afterward  that  the  six 
Agathas,  shortly  after  the  elopement  of  Vin- 
cent and  the  Secretary-That-Was,  had  all  gone 
to  their  homes  in  America.  Later  some  of 
them  married  certain  suitors  who  had  once 
been  guests  at  Castle  Wyckhoff.  Among 

[164] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

these  were  Agatha  First  and  young  Brance- 
peth,  who,  I  am  happy  to  say,  has  led  a 
reformed  life  since  his  marriage.  And  it  also 
came  to  pass  that  Vincent  and  his  bride  took 
possession  of  Castle  Wyckhoff  as  their  coun- 
try seat  when  they  came  back  from  their 
honeymoon.  And  there  I  often  visited  them. 

But  on  that  eventful  day  when  the  train 
had  pulled  out  of  the  station  none  of  these 
things  was  known  to  me,  and  I  stood  on  the 
platform  dizzy  with  the  unexpected  turn 
events  had  taken. 

And  so  it  was  that  Vincent  got  ahead  of  me, 
just  as  he  has  always  done.  And  so  it  was, 
also,  that  I  returned  to  London,  still  an  eligi- 
ble bachelor,  still  the  prey  of  match-making 
mammas  and  smiling  debutantes. 

There  was  but  one  comforting  thought  in 
the  mixture  of  disappointment  and  chagrin 

[165] 


THE     REAL     AGATHA 

that  made  the  sum  of  my  feelings  as  I  drove 
slowly  back  to  the  castle.  This  much  had 
been  given  me:  at  least  I  had  not  made 
the  fatal  mistake  of  proposing  to  the  wrong 
Agatha,  and  I  hugged  myself  as  I  thought 
how  near  I  had  come  to  putting  the  question 
to  Agatha  Sixth  that  very  morning.  That, 
at  least,  I  had  managed  to  avoid.  From  that 
folly  the  innate  caution  and  unerring  instinct 
of  Archibald  Terhune  had  preserved  him. 
Thank  Heaven ! 


A     000124031     6 


